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INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


RETOLD/ BY 

^GILBERT  L.  WILSON,  Ph.D. 

KIELD  COLLECTOR  FOR 
AMERICAN  MUSEUM  OF  NATURAL  HISTORY 
CITY  OF  NEW  YORK 


Illustrated  by 

FREDERICK  N.  WILSON 


AMERICAN  BOOK  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  CINCINNATI  CHICAGO 


Copyright,  1916, 

By  GILBERT  L.  WILSON 


All  rights  reserved 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


W.  P.  2 


FOREWORD 


The  Indian  tribes  of  New  England  and  Nova  Scotia 
were  called  Abnaki,  or  East-land  folk,  by  their  Algonkin 
relatives  ; and  Tarrateens,  by  our  Puritan  fathers.  They 
played  no  small  part  in  early  New  England  history. 
Massasoit,  Samoset,  Uncas,  Canonchet,  King  Philip, 
were  Abnakis. 

Small  remnants  of  these  tribes  remain  on  New  Eng- 
land soil.  The  Penobscots  of  Old  Town,  Maine,  and 
the  Passamaquoddies  about  Passamaquoddy  Bay  still 
hold  to  their  language  and  many  ancient  customs. 
They  number  a few  hundreds.  The  Micmacs,  four 
thousand  souls,  chiefly  in  Nova  Scotia,  are  as  numer- 
ous as  they  were  four  centuries  ago. 

Indians  believe  in  many  gods  and  spirits;  but  no 
one  of  these  is  a Great  Spirit,  in  the  sense  in  which 
we  use  the  term.  However,  every  tribe  has  some 
legend  of  a creator,  or  first-maker,  to  whom  the  tribe 
owes  its  origin. 

Glooskap  is  the  Abnaki  creator.  His  name  means 
Deceiver;  for  when  he  forsook  earth,  Glooskap  prom- 
ised to  return,  but  has  not  done  so. 

5 


6 


FOREWORD 


Two  considerable  collections  of  Abnaki  myths  have 
been  made.  The  Rev.  Silas  Rand,  fifty  years  a mis- 
sionary to  the  Micmacs,  recorded  legends  of  that  tribe  ; 
they  were  published  after  his  death,  in  1894.  In  1883 
and  1884,  Charles  G.  Leland  collected  legends  from  the 
Penobscot  and  Passamaquoddy  tribes,  publishing  them 
in  1885.  These  two  collections  are  authorities  for  most 
of  the  tales  in  this  book.  For  the  eighth  tale,  Mac- 
Lean’s  “ Canadian  Savage  Folk,”  and  for  the  tenth  tale, 
the  “Tenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Eth- 
nology,” are  authorities. 

The  illustrations  in  this  book  are  from  drawings  by 
the  author’s  brother.  Many  are  from  sketches  made  in 
the  summer  of  1912  when  the  author  and  his  brother 
were  making  studies  among  the  Hidatsa  Indians  for  the 
American  Museum  of  Natural  History.  Artist  and 
author  acknowledge  courtesy  of  Professors  M.  R.  Har- 
rington, Frank  G.  Speck,  W.  H.  Mechling,  and  W.  C. 
Orchard  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  in  furnish- 
ing information  or  photographs;  of  Dr.  Edward  Sapir 
and  Mr.  Harlan  Smith  of  the  Canadian  Geological  Sur- 
vey, who  loaned  photographic  studies  of  Abnaki  arts; 
and  of  Dr.  Clark  Wissler  of  the  American  Museum  of 
Natural  History. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

First  Tale  — The  Coming  of  Glooskap  ....  9 

Second  Tale  — The  Making  of  Man  . . . .11 

Third  Tale — Glooskap’s  Family  . . . . .15 

Fourth  Tale — -Glooskap  and  the  Wicked  Winpi  . . 21 

Fifth  Tale  — Glooskap  and  the  Friendly  Loons  . . 37 

Sixth  Tale  — Mikchich,  Glooskap’s  Uncle  ...  39 

Seventh  Tale  — Glooskap  and  Kitpoosaguno  . . .57 

Eighth  Tale  — The  Little  Lads  and  the  Kookwesses  . 68 

Ninth  Tale  — Glooskap  and  the  Witches.  ...  73 

Tenth  Tale  — Glooskap  and  Pokinskwess  ....  77 

Eleventh  Tale — Pulowech,  Glooskap’s  Friend  ...  87 

Twelfth  Tale  — Glooskap  and  the  Giant  Sorcerers  . .103 

Thirteenth  Tale  — Glooskap  and  Tumilkoontawoo  . . 109 

Fourteenth  Tale  — Glooskap  and  Atosis  . . . .115 

Fifteenth  Tale  — Glooskap  and  the  Frog  Chief  . .122 

Sixteenth  Tale  — Glooskap’s  Return  to  the  Village  . 130 

Seventeenth  Tale  — The  Men  who  Disobeyed  Glooskap  . 132 

Eighteenth  Tale  — Keekwajoo  and  Kaktoogwasees  . . 138 

Nineteenth  Tale  — The  Going  of  Glooskap  . . .156 

Twentieth  Tale  — Glooskap  and  the  Three  Seekers  . .159 


7 


8 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Twenty-first  Tale  — Glooskap  and  the  Three  Men  who 

became  Pines  . . . . . . . .167 

Twenty-second  Tale  — The  Last  Battle  . . . .173 

Glossary  of  Indian  Words  . . . . . .175 

Explanatory  Notes  . . . 177 

Supplement  .....  186 


FIRST  TALE 

THE  COMING  OF  GLOOSKAP1 

Long  ago,  a canoe  came  over  the  ocean.  It 
was  a wonderful  canoe,  made  of  stone,  yet  it  rode 
the  waves  as  lightly  as  a bird. 

A warrior  steered  the  canoe.  He  was  tall,  with 
great  shoulders  and  thighs.  An  eagle’s  feather 
stood  in  his  scalp  lock.2  • It  nodded  as  the  warrior 
bent  to  his  paddle. 

The  waves,  beating  on  the  hollow  boat,  made 
a sound  like  a drum.  The  warrior  was  singing  : 

1Gloos-kap  2 See  Note  I at  end  of  volume. 


9 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


io 

“ I am  Glooskap  ; 

I come  out  of  the  east, 

I come  from  the  sunrise  ! ” 

The  warrior  steered  to  the  shore,  laid  down  his 
paddle,  and  leaped  out  on  the  beach. 

He  turned  to  the  canoe.  “Go  !”  he  said. 
“When  I have  need,  I will  call  you.”  And  with 
his  foot  he  gently  pushed  the  bow. 

The  great  canoe  lurched,  righted  itself  in  the 
water,  slowly  turned,  stopped.  A wonderful  thing 
then  happened. 

The  canoe  became  an  island  of  rock.  Where  the 
paddle  had  rested,  rose  a tall  pine  tree. 

Thus  Glooskap  came  to  the  land  of  the  Abnakis.1 


1 Ab-na-kls 


SECOND  TALE 
THE  MAKING  OF  MAN 

It  was  a beautiful  land.  On  the  east  lay  the 
ocean.  In  the  west  were  mountains.  Rivers  ran 
through  green  valleys  ; on  their  banks  stood  forests 
of  birch,  ash,  and  pine.  The  forests  were  full 
of  game. 

Glooskap  looked  upon  the  land.  The  sun  had 
risen  and  was  shining  white  over  the  ocean. 
Tall  trees  waved  in  the  forests.  Glooskap  was 
pleased. 

“It  is  a good  land,”  he  thought.  “I  will  make 
man,  and  he  shall  dwell  here  ; but  no  living  thing 


II 


12 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


must  harm  him  •!”  He  called  the  birds  and  beasts 
to  a council  in  the  forest. 

They  came,  and  he  spoke  to  them.  “I  am  going 
to  make  man  ; but  I must  know  that  you  cannot 
harm  him,  and  I must  name  you  !”  He  made  them 
pass,  one  at  a time,  before  him. 

The  bear  came  first,  swaying  his  big  haunches 
as  he  walked.  “Your  name  is  Mooin,”1  Gloos- 

kap  told  him.  “What would 
you  do  if  you  saw  a man  ?” 

“I  should  run  !”  said  the 
bear. 

“You  shall  live  in  the 
thickets,”  said  Glooskap. 
“In  winter,  you  may  sleep 
in  a hollow  tree.” 

The  moose  came  next. 
“Your  name,”  said  Glooskap,  “shall  be  Teeam.2 
What  would  you  do  if  you  saw  a man  ?” 

The  moose  hung  his  head.  “I  should  fear 
him,”  he  said.  “He  will  hunt  me  with 
1 Moo-in 


2 Tee-am 


THE  MAKING  OF  MAN 


13 


snowshoes,  in  the  deep 

I >> 

snow  ! 

“And  I should  fear 
him,”  cried  Quabeet,1 
the  beaver,  “for  he  will 
set  traps  to  catch  me  !” 

“You  shall  live,” 
said  Glooskap,  “the  one 
in  the  forests,  the  other 
in  the  streams.” 

He  called  Meeko,2  the  squirrel.  Meeko  was 
greatest  of  all  the  beasts. 

“What  would  you  do  if  you 
met  a man  ?”  Glooskap  asked 
him. 

“I  would  scratch  down  trees 
upon  him  !”  barked  Meeko. 

Glooskap  frowned,  but  lifted 
the  squirrel  in  his  arms  and 
gently  stroked  his  back.  Meeko  grew  smaller 
and  smaller,  until  he  was  as  he  is  to-day. 

1 Qua-beet  2 Mee-ko 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


14 

“Now,  what  would  you  do  ?”  Glooskap  asked. 

“I  would  run  up  a tree,”  cried  Meeko. 

The  land  was  at  length  ready  for  man. 

Glooskap  drew  his  bow,  and  sent  an  arrow  sing- 
ing among  the  trees.  It  struck  an  ash.  The  trunk 
split,  and  out  sprang  a warrior,  young  and  handsome. 

Again  Glooskap  shot,  splitting  an  ash ; and 
there  stepped  out  a young  woman,  with  shining 
eyes.  So  he  shot  until  his  quiver  was  empty,  and 
there  were  many  men  and  women  in  the  land. 

Glooskap  looked  upon  them  and  was  glad. 

“You  shall  be  my  people,”  he  told  them;  “I 
will  teach  you  many  things.  You  shall  build  canoes. 
You  shall  make  traps  and  bows,  and  plant  corn. 
And  you  shall  be  called  Abnakis,  or  Men  of  the 
East,  because  your  land  lies  nearest  the  sunrise.” 


THIRD  TALE 
GLOOSKAP’S  FAMILY 

So  Glooskap  dwelt  with  the  Abnakis.  He  taught 
them  to  build  villages  and  sail  canoes  ; to  hunt  and 
fish  and  plant  corn  ; to  bury  fish  in  their  fields  that 
the  corn  might  grow.1  All  that  they  knew,  they 
learned  of  him. 

Sometimes  he  lived  in  their  villages  and  was 
their  chief.  Again,  he  dwelt  apart  by  the  sea  ; or 
• he  pitched  his  wigwam  on  an  island  where  it  was 
hard  to  come  to  him  even  in  a canoe. 

Glooskap  had  no  wife.  An  old  woman  mended 
his  moccasins  and  kept  his  pot  boiling.  He  called 
1 See  Note  2 at  end  of  volume. 

*5 


i6 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


her  his  grandmother.1  Her  name  was  the  Bear 
Woman. 

And  she  could  be  a bear  if  she  wanted  ; for  every- 
thing was  strange  in  those  days.  All  the  Abnakis 
were  named  for  beasts  or  birds,  and  could  turn  into 
these  when  they  willed. 

A small  lad  played  about  Glooskap’s  wigwam 
and  helped  the  old  grandmother.  His  name  was 
Abistanooch,2  or  the  marten.  Glooskap  called  him 
his  younger  brother.3  Abistanooch  could  be  a babe, 
a lad,  or  a young  man,  as  he  had  need. 

The  little  marten  ate  always  from  a birch-bark 
dish.  If  danger  came  nigh  him,  he  had  but  to  drop 

the  dish  and  Glooskap, 
finding  it,  would  know 
what  to  do. 

These  two,  the  Bear 
Woman  and  Abista- 
nooch, were  Glooskap’s 
family.  He  had  no  kin  of  his  own. 

It  was  not  always  so.  Malsum,4  the  wolf,  was 

1 See  Note  3.  2 A-bis-ta-nooch  3 See  Note  4.  4 Mal-sum 


GLOOSKAP’S  FAMILY 


17 


Glooskap’s  twin  brother.  But  Malsum  was  wicked  ; 
ne  had  caused  his  own  mother’s  death.  Glooskap 
was  good. 

The  brothers  had  charmed  lives  ; and  each  could 
be  slain  by  one  thing  only.  Neither 
knew  what  it  was  that  could  kill  the 
other. 

One  day  when  they  were  children, 
they  played  at  making  lodges.  As 
they  sat  and  rested,  Malsum  asked, 

“Elder  brother,  what  can  slay  you  ?” 

Glooskap  did  not  answer  at  once. 

“Malsum  is  wicked  !”  he  thought  ; and 
he  said  aloud,  “ Do  not  strike  me  with 
an  owl’s  feather  !” 

“I,”  said  Malsum,  “fear  only  a fern 
root  !” 

Years  passed,  and  the  brothers  had 
grown  to  be  men,  when  Quabeet,  the 
beaver,  tempted  Malsum. 

“All  men  love  Glooskap,”  he  whispered.  “Slay 
him  ! Men  will  then  obey  you  !” 


IND.  HERO  TALES — 2 


18  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

Malsum  listened  to  Quabeet.  With  his  bow,  he 
shot  an  owl  and  plucked  out  a feather ; and  when 
Glooskap  slept,  Malsum  stole  in  and  struck  him. 

The  blow  wakened  Glooskap.  He  saw  the  feather 
and  understood  ; but  he  hid  his  anger. 

“Ho!”  he  laughed,  “I  dreamed  I felt  an  owl’s 
feather.  Well  for  me  it  was  not  a pine  root  !” 

Days  went  by,  and 
Glooskap  and  his 
brother  were  on  a 
hunt.  By  a brook 
where  deer  came  to 
drink,  they  built  them 
a hunting  lodge  and 
camped. 

One  morning  while 
Glooskap  was  sleep- 
ing, Malsum  dug  up 
a pine  root ; he  crept 
into  the  lodge  and  struck  his  brother. 

Glooskap  sprang  up  in  anger.  “Twice  have  you 
tried  to  slay  me  !”  he  cried.  “No  more  shall  you 


GLOOSKAP’S  FAMILY 


19 


sleep  in  my  wigwam  !”  And  he  drove  Malsum 
from  the  lodge. 

But  Glooskap  was  grieved  ; and  he  went  out  and 
sat  by  the  brook.  “Mal- 
sum hates  me,”  he  said 
aloud.  “It  is  well  he  does 
not  know  that  a cattail 
rush  can  slay  me  !” 

In  the  reeds  by  the 
brook  lay  Quabeet,  listen- 
ing. When  Glooskap  had 
gone,  Quabeet  stole  out 
and  sought  Malsum. 

“I  heard  Glooskap  talk- 
ing,” Quabeet  told  him. 

“He  said  a cattail  rush 
can  slay  him  !” 

Malsum  was  overjoyed. 

“You  bring  me  good  news,”  he  cried, 
shall  I give  you  !” 

The  beaver  thought.  “I  am  tired  of  the  water,” 
he  said.  “Give  me  wings  that  I may  fly  !” 


What  now 


20 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


But  Malsum  laughed  aloud.  “ Begone ! ” he 
cried.  And  he  drove  the  beaver  into  the  brook. 

Evening  came,  and  Glooskap  was  boiling  a kettle 
on  a fire  before  his  camp,  when  Quabeet  crept  out 
of  the  reeds  and  called  to  him  : “Malsum  knows  your 
secret  ! He  seeks  to  slay  you  with  a cattail  rush  !” 

Glooskap  was  sad  at  these  words.  He  sat  all 
night  with  his  robe  about  his  knees,  thinking  of  his 
brother’s  wickedness.  In  the  morning  he  dug  a 
fern  root,  found  Malsum,  and  slew  him. 

Then  Glooskap  mourned  for  Malsum.  He  put 
clay  on  his  head,  fasted,  and  sang  a sad  song ; and 
he  made  a fire  by  his  brother’s  grave,1  and  sat  there. 


1 See  Note  5. 


FOURTH  TALE 

GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WICKED  WINPI  1 

I.  WlNPI  STEALS  GLOOSKAP’S  FAMILY 

Glooskap  built  him  a wigwam.  He  covered  it 
with  bark  sewed  in  wide  strips.2  These  strips  he 
could  roll  up  and  load  in  his  canoe,  when  he  wanted 
to  move  his  lodge  to  a new  place. 

He  pitched  his  tent  near  the  sea.  It  was  a good 
place  for  a camp. 

Every  day,  Glooskap  went  out  hunting,  and  the 
little  marten  fished  along  the  shore ; and  neither 
came  home  empty-handed. 

1 Win-pi  2 See  Note  6. 


21 


22 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


One  day  as  he  came  in  from  his  hunt,  Glooskap 
saw  that  no  smoke  was  rising  from  his  wigwam. 
“That  is  strange  !”  he  thought.  He  dropped  his 
pack  and  raised  the  door  skin. 
There  was  no  one  within. 

“My  grandmother  is  stolen  !” 
cried  Glooskap. 

Swiftly  he  ran  around  the  wig- 
wam. On  the  side  nearest  the 
sea  were  tracks. 

He  followed  them ; they  led 
to  the  beach.  There  he  saw 
what  sad  misfortune  had  over- 

Putting  out  from  shore  in  a canoe  was  Winpi,  a 
sorcerer,  Glooskap’s  enemy.  Winpi’s  wife  and  babe 
were  with  him.  In  the  stern  sat  Glooskap’s 
grandmother  and  Abistanooch ; the  grandmother 
was  weeping. 

Glooskap  strode  angrily  to  the  water’s  edge. 

“Wicked  Winpi,”  he  shouted,  “bring  back  my 
grandmother  and  my  younger  brother  !” 


taken  his  family. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WICKED  WINPI  23 

But  Winpi  paid  no  heed  to  his  words.  He  swung 
his  canoe  around  and  headed  out  to  sea. 

Glooskap  had  two  wonderful  dogs.1  One  was 
white,  the  other  black  ; and  they  could  grow  small 
or  big,  as  Glooskap  bade 
them. 

Winpi  had  stolen  these 
dogs,  and  they  were  with 
him  in  the  canoe.  They 
heard  Glooskap’s  voice 
and  began  to  bark. 

“Grandmothe  r,” 
shouted  Glooskap,  “send 
me  back  my  dogs  !” 

The  grandmother 
stopped  weeping.  A 
wooden  platter  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe2; 
into  this  she  put  the  dogs,  no  bigger  than  mice, 
and  set  the  platter  on  the  water. 

The  platter  floated  to  land  and  Glooskap  took 
it  up. 


1 See  Note  7. 


2 See  Note  8. 


24 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Glooskap  rested  seven  years  before  he  followed 
Winpi.  Why  he  waited,  no  one  knows.  It  may 
be  he  did  so  to  gain  power.1  To  fight  Winpi,  he 
knew,  was  no  child’s  play. 

At  the  end  of  seven  years,  Glooskap  took  his  bow, 
hid  his  dogs  under  his  coat,  and  set  forth  ; but  he 
paused,  and  leaned  a stick  against  his  door. 
“Strangers  will  see  the  stick,”  he  thought,  “and 
know  that  no  one  is  within.” 

He  went  down  to  the  beach  and  sang  a song  that 
the  whales  obey.  A small  black  whale  arose  and 
came  swimming  in  to  land. 

Glooskap  tried  the  whale’s  back  with  his  foot. 
The  whale  sank ; Glooskap  sent  him  away. 

Again  he  sang,  and  a great  she  whale  arose  in  the 
ocean.  She  was  Bootup,2  hugest  of  all  whales. 
Slowly  she  swam  to  shore.  Glooskap  leaped  and 
stood  upon  her  back. 

1 See  Note  9. 


2 Boot-up 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WICKED  WINPI  25 

“Whither  shall  I take  you,  grandson  ?”  asked 
the  whale. 

“Along  the  coast;  I seek  Winpi  !”  answered 
Glooskap. 

Bootup  headed  to  sea,  and  for  hours  bore  the  chief 
over  the  waves. 

Toward  mid-after- 
noon, Glooskap 
wanted  to  land. 

“Grandmother,” 
he  called,  “turn  in 
toward  the  beach.  I want  to  go  ashore  !” 

Bootup  obeyed,  but  feared  the  shoals  lying  along 
the  coast.  She  called  to  Glooskap,  “Grandson, 
do  you  see  land  lying  near  ?” 

“No,”  he  answered,  “I  see  only  deep  water  !” 

After  a time  the  water  grew  shoal.  Bootup  saw, 
below,  the  white  shells  of  the  clams  and  cried  in 
fear,  “Grandson,  do  you  not  see  the  land  stretching 
Out  like  a bowstring  ?” 

“No,”  he  answered,  “we  are  yet  far  from  land.” 

The  water  grew  more  shoal.  Bootup  could  even 


26 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


hear  the  clams  singing.  She  asked  Glooskap, 
“Grandson,  what  are  they  singing?” 

He  answered  her  in  a song  : 

“They  tell  you  to  hurry,  to  hurry, 

To  hurry  me  on 

O’er  the  water,  the  water, 

As  fast  as  you  can  !” 

The  song  shamed  Bootup,  and  she  rushed  through 

the  water  at  the  top  of 
her  speed.  Suddenly 
she  ran  aground. 
Glooskap  sprang  safely 
to  land  ; but  the  whale 
lay  stranded  with  her 
big  head  high  on  the 
beach. 

Tears  came  into  Bootup’s  eyes.  Sobbing,  she 
sang : 

“Alas,  grandson, 

You  would  be  my  death  ! 

I cannot  leave  the  land  ; 

I shall  swim  the  sea  no  more  !” 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WICKED  WINPI  27 

Glooskap  laughed  and  again  answered  in  a song  : 

“Nay,  grandmother,  have  no  fear  ! 

You  shall  swim  the  sea  once  more  !’’ 

And  with  a push  of  his  mighty  bow,  he  sent  the 
whale  off  into  deep  water. 

Bootup  dived,  but  came  up 
again,  blowing  gladly.  Once 
more  she  swam  near  to  shore. 

“Grandson,”  she  called,  “have 
you  a pipe  and  tobacco  ?” 

Glooskap  lighted  a short  pipe, 
and  put  it  in  her  mouth.  The  whale  swam  away, 
smoking  as  she  went. 

To  this  day  when  a whale  blows,  the  Indians  say, 
“She  is  smoking  Glooskap’s  pipe  l”1 


28 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


* ! — — — 7 

. • ; /Tw  S ' ' 

PL 

III. 

Glooskap  overcomes 

'0^5: 

the  Witches 

T.  , — 

Glooskap  went  on  afoot,  and  soon  came  to  the 
ashes  of  a dead  campfire.  There  were  tracks  about, 
and  in  the  sand  lay  a broken  birch  dish.  Glooskap 
picked  it  up  ; it  was  the  marten’s. 

“Winpi  camped  here  three  months  ago,”  thought 
Glooskap.  He  dropped  the  dish.  “It  shall  go  hard 
with  Winpi  when  I 
find  him!”  he  cried. 

He  went  on.  One 
day  he  came  to  a low 
hut.  An  old  woman, 
ugly  and  in  rags,  sat 
within  by  a fire  of 
sticks.  She  was  a 
witch. 

She  tried  to  look  pleased 
when  she  saw  Glooskap.  “Come  in  !”  she  said. 
She  begged  Glooskap  to  fetch  her  some  firewood.1 


1 See  Note  1 1. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WICKED  WINPI 


Glooskap  took  her  packing  strap  and  fetched  in 
a great  load  of  sticks  on  his  back. 

The  witch  heaped  sticks  on  the  fire  and  warmed 
Glooskap  some  broth.1  He  ate,  and  she  sat  by  the 
fire,  nodding  ; the  smoke 
made  her  sleepy. 

Glooskap  put  down 
the  bowl,  empty.  The 
witch  opened  her  eyes. 

“Grandson,”  she 
cried,  “things  creep  in 
my  hair!”  She  bent  her 
head  ; Glooskap  was  as- 
tonished to  see  that  her 
hairwasfull  of  livetoads. 

“Kill  them!”  cried 
the  witch. 

Glooskap  would  not  do  this,  for  he  knew  the 
toads’  poison  would  enter  his  skin.  He  took  them 
out  and  put  them,  one  by  one,  under  the  empty 
bowl.  The  witch  fell  asleep. 


1 See  Note  12. 


30  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

She  awoke  to  find  Glooskap  gone.  Her  fire  had 
died.  The  toads  had  overturned  the  bowl  and  were 
hopping  out  of  the  door. 

The  witch  sprang  up  in  a rage.  “Glooskap  mocks 

me  !”  she  cried ; 
and  she  rushed 
from  the  lodge. 

Glooskap  saw  her 
coming.  He  took 
out  his  dogs  and 
put  them  on  the 
ground,  whispering, 
“Grow  big  !” 

The  dogs  grew  to 
great  size  and  slew 
the  witch. 

Glooskap  came 
next  to  a narrow  pass  between  hills.  Standing  in 
the  pass  were  two  giant  dogs,  baying  savagely. 

Glooskap  put  his  own  little  dogs  upon  the  ground. 
They,  growing  to  great  size,  flew  at  the  strange  dogs 
and  tore  them  into  bits. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WICKED  WINPI  31 

Farther  on,  Glooskap  saw  a tall  wigwam  with  smoke 
curling  upward.  “An  enemy  is  there  !”  he  thought. 

He  made  his  way  to  the  wigwam  and  found  an  old 
man,  with  two  grown-up 
daughters.  The  old  man 
was  a boooin.1 

The  boooin’s  daughters 
came  out,  saucily  tossing 
their  hair  and  laughing. 

They  had  strings  of  sau- 
sages on  their  arms. 

These  sausages  are  made 
of  bears’  entrails,  smoked, 
with  the  fat  turned  in.  Indian  girls  think  them  a 
fit  gift  for  their  lovers. 

The  two  girls  tried  to  throw  the  sausages  over 
Glooskap’s  neck.  “We  make  you  a gift  !’’  they 
cried.  The  sausages  were  bewitched.  Had  they 
fallen  on  Glooskap  they  would  have  held  him  fast. 

Glooskap  answered  not  a word,  but  took  out  his 
dogs.  “Grow  big  !”  he  whispered  to  them. 

1 boo-6-m.  See  Note  13. 


32 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


He  had  taught  his  dogs,  when  he  bade  them  be 
quiet,  they  should  fight.  When  now  they  began  to 
growl,  Glooskap  cried,  “Kuss!  1 — Stop  !”  This 
the  dogs  knew  as,  “Seek,  seek  them  !”  They  flew 

at  the  girls,  who  rose  in 
their  true  shape,  ugly 
witches. 

There  was  an  awful  bat- 
tle. The  barking  of  the  dogs 
and  the  witches’  screams 
were  like  the  noise  of  a 
storm.  And  all  the  time, 
Glooskap  was  calling, 
“ Kuss,  kuss ! — Stop,  stop  !”  At  last  the  witches  fled. 

Glooskap  entered  the  wigwam.  He  found  the 
father  sitting  with  kettle  ready ; for  boooins  eat 
human  flesh. 

Glooskap  scornfully  threw  over  him  the  magic 
sausages.  “Eat  these  ! ” he  cried. 

Caught  in  his  own  sausages,  the  boooin  fell  help- 
less ; and  Glooskap  slew  him. 


1 Kuss 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WICKED  WINPI  33 


Glooskap  went  on,  meeting  no  more  foes.  The 
way  led  him  again  to  the  sea.  Far  out  he  saw  an 
island.  “Winpi  hides  there,”  he  thought. 

Once  more  he  sang  the  whales’  song.  A black 
whale  arose  and  bore  him  to  the  island. 

Hardly  had  he  landed  when  he  found  remains 
of  a forsaken  camp.  Tracks,  still  fresh,  were  in 
the  sand  ; and  in  the  ashes  of  the  fire  a few  coals 
were  yet  burn- 
ing. A new 
birch  dish  lay 
on  the  ground. 

It  was  the 
marten’s ; and 
marks  scratched 


upon  it  told  Glooskap  all  he  needed  to  know.1 
“Winpi  camped  here  last  night,”  he  thought. 

He  hastened  on,  following  the  campers’  trail. 


1 See  Note  14. 


IND.  HERO  TALES 3 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


34 

The  way  led  him  into  the  island.  Toward  evening, 
he  saw  the  light  of  a camp  fire. 

He  was  nearing  the  camp,  when  he  heard  the 
sound  of  a stick  breaking.  Softly  he  stole  through 
the  trees  and  looked.  There  was  Abistanooch, 
gathering  wood  ; he  looked  starved,  but  his  clothes 
were  good.1 

“ Younger  brother!”  Glooskap  called  softly. 

Abistanooch  did  not  hear.  Smiling,  Glooskap 
threw  a chip  ; it  fell  at  the  marten’s  feet. 

Abistanooch  looked  up.  “A  squirrel  did  it  !” 

he  thought ; and  he  went  on 
gathering  wood. 

Glooskap  called  again.  The 
marten  looked  up,  and  saw 
him ; he  was  beside  himself 
for  joy. 

“Quiet,  little  brother  !”  said 
Glooskap. 

Abistanooch  told  him  all 
that  Winpi  did  ; how  the  Bear  Woman  had  to  scour 

1 See  Note  15. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WICKED  WINPI  35 


pots  while  the  marten  fetched  wood  and  cared 
for  Winpi’s  babe. 

Abistanooch  wept  as  he  told 
this.  He  was  ashamed  to  be  a 
servant  and  do  woman’s  work. 

Glooskap  heard  him  and  said  : 

“Take  your  wood  to  camp.  Winpi  will  ask  you 
for  a drink.  Fetch  muddy  water  and  give  to  him. 
Then  run  hither  !” 

Abistanooch  stooped  and  lifted  his  load.  “I 
will  do  as  you  bid  me!”  he  said.*  All  happened  as 
Glooskap  said.  Winpi  asked  for  a drink.  Abista- 
nooch fetched  him  a cup  of  foulest  water.  Winpi 
tasted  it. 

“Uk,  say / 1 — Oh,  dreadful!”  he  cried.  “Fetch 
me  clean  water  !” 

Abistanooch  threw  the  cup  in  his  face.  Winpi 
sprang  to  his  feet ; but  the  little  marten  ran  for 
the  trees  where  Glooskap  was  hiding. 

“Help!  elder  brother!”  he  cried;  he  could  hear 
Winpi  coming. 

1 Uk  say 


36  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

“Your  brother  is  far  away  ! ” cried  Winpi  ; but 
even  as  he  spoke,  Glooskap  stood  before  them. 
Winpi  fell  back,  afraid.  Then  calling  up  all  his 
power,  he  rose  a great  giant,  until  he  stood  above 
the  tallest  trees. 

Glooskap  laughed  aloud.  “Behold!”  he  cried, 
and  he  began  to  grow.  Taller  he  rose,  and  taller, 
until  his  head  touched  the  clouds. 

“I  am  undone  ! ” cried 
Winpi ; and  he  covered 
his  face. 

Glooskap  reached  down 
with  his  bow  and  tapped 
Winpi  on  the  shoulders, 
as  he  would  a little  dog. 
Winpi  fell  dead. 

Glooskap  went  into 
the  wigwam  where  Win- 
pi’s  wife  sat,  crying  out  with  fear  ; but  all  he  said 
was,  “Begone!”  She  took  her  babe  and  gladly 
went  away. 


FIFTH  TALE 

GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  FRIENDLY  LOONS 

When  Glooskap  was  seeking  Winpi,  he  came  one 
day  to  a lake.  He  was  standing,  gazing  at  the 
water,  when  the  sound  of  wings  made  him  look  up. 
A bird  flew  by,  circled  around  the  lake,  and  again 
passed  Glooskap.  As  the  bird  flew  by  a third  time, 
Glooskap  called,  “What  do  you  want  ?” 

“To  be  your  servant  !”  said  the  bird.  He  told 
Glooskap  his  name  was  Kwemoo  1 and  that  he  was 
chief  of  the  loons. 

Afterwards,  on  Winpi’s  island,  Glooskap  came 
1 Kwe-moo 


37 


3 8 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


upon  a town  of  many  lodges.1  It  was  the  loons’ 
village.  The  island  was  their  home. 

Chief  Kwemoo  and  his  people  gladly  welcomed 
Glooskap.  They  feasted  him  many  days,  dancing 
each  night  in  the  town  lodge.  The  young  men  of 
the  village  gave  him  rich  gifts. 

Glooskap  was  pleased  with  the  loons.  He  made 
them  his  messengers ; and  ever  afterwards  they 
were  his  faithful  friends. 

He  taught  them  a long,  wild  cry,  like  the  howl  of 
a wolf.  “When  you  have  need,”  he  said,  “make 
that  cry,  and  I will  come.” 

Whenever  the  Indians  hear  a loon  cry,  they  say, 
“Kwemoo  is  calling  Glooskap!” 

1 See  Note  16. 


SIXTH  TALE 

MIKCHICH,1  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE 
I.  Mikchich  wins  a Wife 

Glooskap  did  not  call  Bootup  to  take  him  from 
the  island.  He  built  a canoe  and,  with  his  family, 
paddled  to  the  mainland. 

He  landed  at  a place  called  Piktook,2  or  Bubbling 
Air,  from  air  bubbles  that  rise  in  the  water.  A 
village  was  there  of  more  than  a hundred  wigwams. 

Here  Glooskap  left  his  family.  “I  am  going  into 
the  village,”  he  told  them.  Abistanooch  took  the 
1 Mik-chfch  2 Pik-took 


39 


40 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


paddle  and,  with  the  old  grandmother,  went  on 
down  the  coast. 

On  the  side  of  the  village  nearest  the  water  stood 
a small,  ill-built  wigwam  with  a squat  roof.  There 
lived  in  it  a man  with  withered  face,  old  and  ugly. 


He  was  Mikchich,  the 
turtle,  and  he  dwelt  alone. 
No  one  wanted  him  for  a 
husband.  “He  is  so  ugly  ! 
— we  cannot  bear  to  look 


'>  at  him  !”  the  village  maid- 


ens said. 


When  an  Indian  comes 
to  a strange  town,  he  stops 


always  at  the  first  lodge  he  finds.  So  it  was  that 
Glooskap,  coming  up  from  the  beach,  stopped  at 
Mikchich’s  door.  He  pushed  the  door-skin  aside, 
and  entered. 

Mikchich  looked  up.  His  old  face  puckered  into 
a smile,  and  he  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth. 

“ Kwai  ! ” 1 he  cried,  “Welcome!  Come  and  sit 


1 Kwai 


MIKCHICH,  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE  41 

back  of  the  fire.”1  He  dragged  out  a rush  mat  for 
Glooskap  to  sit  upon. 

When  they  had  smoked,  Mikchich  brought  out 
dried  moose  meat  and  fat  of  bears’  entrails.  “We 
will  feast,  nephew!”  he  said;  for  Mikchich  wished 
well  to  everybody,  and  thought  nothing  better  than 
to  have  Glooskap  call  him  uncle. 

It  was  soon  noised  that  a handsome  stranger  had 
come  to  Mikchich’s  wigwam.  All  were  eager  to  see 
him  ; but  Glooskap  did  not  go  to  the  village  feasts. 
He  liked  to  stay  in  the  lodge  and  watch  his  uncle’s 
quaint  ways  and  hear  his  stories. 


1 See  Note  17. 


42 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


“Go,  nephew,”  said  his  uncle,  “or  they  will  think 
you  fear  to  enter  the  games  !” 

Glooskap  laughed.  “Why  not  go  yourself,  uncle  ?” 
he  asked.  “It  will  be  good  to  see  the  games.  And 
the  village  maidens  will  be  there  ! You  should 
think  of  winning  you  a wife.” 

Mikchich  sighed,  and  thrust  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe.  He  filled  the  bowl  and  held  the  stem  to 
Glooskap. 

“Nephew,”  he  said,  “I  am  old  and  have  little  wit. 

And  I am  ugly,  so  that  young 
women  shun  me.  Better  for  me 
that  I eat  alone  !” 

Glooskap  sat,  blowing  little  clouds 
from  his  nostrils. 

“Uncle,”  he  said,  “let  me  see  if 
I cannot  make  you  young  !” 

The  day  of  the  feast  came. 
Glooskap  took  off  his  belt  and 
gave  it  to  Mikchich. 

“ Put  on  this  belt,  uncle  !”  he  said. 
Mikchich  did  so.  The  wrinkles  faded  from  his 


MIKCHICH,  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE  43 

old  face.  His  fat  ankles  grew  slender.  He  became 
young  again,  and  handsome. 

Glooskap  lent  him  his  own  robe  and  leggings. 

“There,  uncle,”  he  said,  “let  us  see  what  they 
will  think  of  you  !” 

Mikchich  came  to  the  feast,  and  all  wondered 
to  see  so  handsome  a man.  None  leaped  so  nimbly, 
or  ran  so  swiftly,  in  the  games. 

Sitting  with  the  women,  watching  the  games, 
were  the  three  bright-eyed  daughters  of  the  chief. 
The  youngest,  Mikchich  thought, 
was  the  prettiest.  He  could 
hardly  keep  his  eyes  from  her. 

At  night,  when  he  came  home, 
he  said  to  Glooskap,  “Nephew, 

I have  seen  the  maiden  I want, 
but  I fear  she  will  not  wed  an 
old  man  like  me  !” 

Glooskap  smiled.  “We  shall  see,  uncle  !”  he  said. 

The  next  morning,  Glooskap  laid  a great  belt 
of  wampum  beads  on  his  arm 1 and  went  to  the 

1 See  Note  18. 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


44 

chief’s  wigwam.  He  threw  the  belt  at  the  chief’s 
feet. 

“My  uncle,  Mikchich,  tires  of  dwelling  alone  !” 
he  said. 

The  chief  sat,  thoughtful.  He  called  his  wife. 
“Shall  we  give  our  daughter  to  Mikchich  ?”  he  asked. 
“Yes,”  she  answered. 

The  chief  called  his  youngest  daughter  to  him. 
“Cook  venison,”  he  said.  “Fetch  boughs  for  your 
husband  to  sit  upon.” 

This  she  did.  While  the  venison  boiled,  she 
gathered  hemlock  boughs  and  covered  them  with 
a skin,  for  a couch.  When  all  was  ready,  she  went 
to  Mikchich’s  lodge  and  said,  “I  have  come  for  you  !” 

Mikchich  arose  and  went  with  her  to  the  chief’s 
wigwam.  He  sat  on  the  couch,  and  the  maiden  gave 
him  venison  to  eat.  And  so  they  were  wed. 


MIKCHICH,  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE 


45 


Mikchich  wanted  to  give  a feast.  “It  is  for  my 
wedding,”  he  told  Glooskap. 

“Make  it  a big  feast,  uncle,”  his  nephew  said; 
and  to  this  end  he  gave  Mikchich  great  power. 

“Go  down  to  the  rocks,  by  the  sea,”  Glooskap 
bade  him.  “There  you  will  see  a number  of  whales 
swimming.  Catch  one  of  them,  and  fetch  it  hither ; 
but  do  not  bring  it  farther  than  the  sand  heap 
before  your  door  !” 

All  this  Mikchich  did,  for  Glooskap’s  belt  gave 
him  strength.  He  caught  a fat  whale  by  the  tail, 
and  drew  it,  struggling  and  bellowing,  from  the 
water.  The  villagers  were  astonished  to  see  him 
come  back  with  the  whale,  still  struggling,  on  his 
back. 

Mikchich  was  much  puffed  up  to  see  that  all  had 
their  eyes  upon  him.  He  forgot  Glooskap’s  warn- 
ing. 


46 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


“The  whale  is  not  heavy,”  he  thought;  “I  will 
take  it  into  my  wigwam  !”  But  when  he  came  to 
the  sand  heap,  he  stumbled  ; and  the  whale,  falling 

on  him,  crushed  him  flat. 
The  villagers  ran 
and  rolled  the  whale 
off  Mikchich.  “He 
is  dead  !”  they  cried. 
They  told  Glooskap. 

Glooskap  laughed. 
“Cut  up  the  whale,” 
he  said.  “Mikchich 
will  live  !” 

They  cut  up  the  whale  as  they  were  directed,  and 
made  ready  the  feast ; and  they  were  sitting  down 
to  eat,  when  in  came  Mikchich,  none  the  worse  for 
having  been  dead. 

“I  have  slept  !”  he  said ; and  he  stretched  his  legs 
and  yawned. 

After  this  the  villagers  feared  Glooskap. 

The  turtle’s  shell  is  still  flat,  where  the  whale 
crushed  it. 


MIKCHICH,  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE 


47 


The  young  men  of  the  village  took  it  ill  that 
Mikchich  had  wed  the  chief’s  daughter.  “Ugly, 
lazy  man  !”  they  said.  “We  thought  one  of  us 
should  win  her.”  They  talked  of  it  until  they  hated 
Mikchich  ; and  they  plotted  to  kill  him. 

Mikchich  lived  with  his  wife,  in  her  father’s 
lodge.  Glooskap  came  to  him. 

“Uncle,”  he  said,  “the  young  men  plot  to  kill  you  !” 

“How  will  they  kill  me  ?”  Mikchich  asked. 

“They  will  ask  you  to  play  a game  of  ball,”1 
said  Glooskap.  “The  ball  will  be  rolled  toward 
your  father-in-law’s  lodge  ; as  you  run  to  catch  it 
up,  the  players  will  try  to  trample  you.  They  seek 
to  slay  you  before  your  door  !” 

Mikchich  sat,  thoughtful.  “What  shall  I do, 
nephew  ?”  he  asked. 

“Wear  my  belt,”  said  Glooskap.  “It  will  give 
1 See  Note  19. 


48  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

you  power  to  leap  over  the  wigwam.  Twice  you 

time  you  will  be  caught 

The  young  men  asked 
The  ball  rolled  toward 
his  lodge,  and  Mikchich 
ran  to  get  it,  when  the 
players  crowded  upon 

him  to  trample  him ; 
but  Mikchich  made  a 
leap  and  sailed  high 

over  the  wigwam.  He 
came  down  safely. 

Again  the  ball  rolled 
toward  his  lodge ; and 
again  Mikchich  went 

sailing  over  the  wigwam. 
The  third  time,  he  fell  short.  The  poles  caught 
him  and  he  hung  dangling  over  the  smoke  hole. 

Much  frightened,  he  looked  down  and  saw  Gloos- 
kap  sitting  inside.  “Help,  nephew,”  he  cried. 

“Take  me  down  !” 


will  leap  safely.  The  third 
on  the  poles  !” 


All  happened  as  he  said. 
Mikchich  to  a game  of  ball. 


MIKCHICH,  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE 


49 


“Nay,  uncle,”  answered  Glooskap,  “you  must 
hang  in  the  smoke.1  It  will  make  you 

tough  !”  And  he  heaped  fir  branches  on  the 
fire,  making  a great  smoke. 

Mikchich  was  nigh 
strangled.  “Nephew,”  he 
cried,  “you  will 
me  !”  He  cou 
and  choked  with 
hot  smoke. 

“It  is  for 
good,”  said  Gloos 
kap.  “Hereafte 
you  may  go  through  flame,  and  it  will  not  hurt  you. 
You  may  live  on  land  or  in  water.  And  you  may 
go  a long  time  without  eating  !” 

When  Mikchich  was  nearly  dead  with  the  smoke, 
Glooskap  took  him  down.  The  turtle’s  skin  had 
been  made  hard  and  brown  by  the  smoke. 

When  Mikchich  got  his  breath  again,  he  thanked 
Glooskap. 

1 See  Note  20. 


IND.  HERO  TALES 4 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


So 


But  for  all  his  skin  was  so  tough,  and  he  had  a 
wife,  Mikchich  could  not  forget  his  old  ways.  He 
was  still  lazy,  wishing  well  to  everybody. 

Autumn  came.  The  men  of  the  village  were  hunt- 
ing, while  the  women  dried  meat1  and  stored  it  by  for 
winter  ; but  lazy  Mikchich  sat  by  his  fire  and  smoked. 

With  the  first  snow,  there  was  feasting  and  merry- 
making in  the  village ; but  in  Mikchich’s  lodge 
was  nothing  to  eat. 

His  wife  was  in  a rage.  “Lazy  man,”  she  cried, 
“the  young  men  hunt  to-day.  Go  you  and  kill  us 
meat,  before  we  starve  !” 

Mikchich  arose  with  a sigh.  He  put  on  his  snow- 
shoes  and  started  off  after  the  hunters  ; but  he  was 
so  awkward  that  he  tripped  and  fell  in  the  snow. 

His  wife  was  watching  him  from  the  wigwam 
door.  “Awkward  man  !”  she  cried. 


1 Sec  Note  21. 


MIKCHICH,  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE  51 


She  went  into  the  wigwam.  “My  husband,”  she 
said  to  her  mother,  “is  lazy;  and  he  is  so  awk- 
ward that  he  trips  on 
his  snowshoes  !” 

Her  mother  remem- 


bered how  Mik- 
chich  had  leaped 
over  the  wigwam. 

“Wait,  daughter,’ 

she  said.  

The  young  men,  looking  back,  saw  Mikchich 
stumble.  They  laughed  to  see  his  fat  body  roll 
in  the  snow. 

“Awkward  Mikchich  !”  they  cried.  “He  is  fat  be- 
cause he  is  lazy  !”  They  went  on,  leaving  him  behind. 

Mikchich  struggled  through  the  snow,  puffing  and 
blowing,  but  could  not  overtake  the  hunters.  They 
disappeared  in  the  forest. 


52 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


But  Mikchich  was  stout  hearted.  He  bethought 
him  of  his  flight  over  the  wigwam.  “I  have  on  my 
nephew’s  belt,”  he  said  to  himself. 

He  bent  his  legs,  made  a leap,  and  went  sailing 
high  over  the  heads  of  the  others.  They  were 
laughing  and  telling  one  another  of  Mikchich,  and 
did  not  see  him. 

Mikchich  came  down  far  away  in  the  forest.  He 
found  tracks  in  the  snow,  followed  them,  and  soon 
came  upon  a fat  cow  moose.1  He  killed  her  and 
dragged  the  carcass  to  a path  where  the  hunters 
must  pass. 

After  a time  the  others  came  up.  They  saw 
Mikchich  sitting  on  the  dead  moose,  smoking  his 
pipe.  “I  have  waited  for  you  !”  he  said  gravely. 

1 See  Note  22. 


MIKCHICH,  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE 


53 


EXe 


rfs&cza? 


V.  Mikchich  goes  through 
Fire  and  Water 


The  time  came  when  Glooskap  had  to  leave 
Mikchich. 

“I  go,  uncle,”  he  said,  “to  my  family.  When 
I am  gone,  the  young  men  will  try  again  to  slay 
you  ; but  I think  since  you  hung  in  the  smoke,  they 
will  find  it  a hard  thing  to  do  !” 

As  Glooskap  said,  no  sooner  was  he  gone  than 
the  young  men  began  to  think  how  they  might  kill 
Mikchich.  “Glooskap,”  they  said,  “cannot  help 
him  now  !”  Again  they  plotted  to  slay  him. 

They  fetched  wood,  and  when  night  came,  they 
made  a great  fire  at  one  end  of  the  village.  They 
hid  by  Mikchich’s  door  ; and  in  the  morning  when 
he  came  out,  they  seized  him  and  dragged  him  to 
the  fire.  “We  are  going  to  burn  you  !”  they  cried. 

Mikchich  said  nothing.  “The  fire,”  he  thought, 
“cannot  be  hotter  than  when  my  nephew  smoked 
me  !”  He  had  on  Glooskap’s  belt. 


54 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


With  much  straining,  the  young  men  lifted  the 
turtle  to  their  shoulders  and  heaved  him  into  the 

fire.  He  fell  in  the 
coals,  on  his  back. 
Red  sparks  flew  up. 
Then  flames  closed 
over  Mikchich  and 
hid  him. 

But  Mikchich  was 
not  dead.  It  was 
good,  he  found,  to 
lie  in  the  warm 
ashes.  “They  make 
a soft  bed  !”  he 
thought. 

He  drew  in  his  legs  and  hid  his  head  in  his  shell. 
He  yawned,  and  closed  his  eyes. 

The  fire  burned  all  that  day  and  into  the  night. 
The  young  men  were  in  high  glee.  All  night  they 
danced  by  the  firelight,1  singing  : 

“Mikchich  is  dead,  is  dead!” 

1 See  Note  23. 


MIKCHICH,  GLOOSKAP’S  UNCLE  55 

Toward  morning  the  flames  died  down.  The 
young  men  were  making  ready  to  go  when  they 
heard  a voice  calling  them.  It  was  Mikchich.  He 
had  waked  and  was  sitting  in  the  ashes,  shivering. 

“I  am  cold  !”  he  cried.  “Heap  wood  on  the 
fire  !” 

The  young  men  were  in  a rage.  “If  you  will  not 
burn,”  they  cried,  “you  shall  drown  !”  They 
dragged  the  turtle 
out  of  the  ashes 
and  rolled  him,  like 
a stone,  to  the  sea. 

Morning  had 
come.  It  was  grow- 
ing light. 

Mikchich  strug- 
gled hard.  “Do  not  drown  me  !”  he  cried.  “Burn 
me,  — do  not  drown  me!”  He  dragged  up  rocks 
and  tore  bark  from  the  trees,  with  his  feet. 

The  young  men  laughed  aloud.  “Mikchich  is 
afraid  !”  they  cried. 

They  tumbled  him  into  a canoe  and  paddled  out 


56  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

to  deep  water.  There  they  dropped  him  over- 
board. 

Slowly  the  turtle  sank  from  sight.  The  young 
men  waited  ; a few  bubbles  arose  on  the  water. 

“He  is  dead!”  said  they;  and  they  paddled 
back  to  shore. 

Day  came  ; and  at;  noon,  a hot  sun  was  shining. 
Some  villagers  were  walking  on  the  beach,  talking 
of  Mikchich’s  drowning. 

“What  is  that  ?”  asked  one  suddenly. 

The  others  looked.  On  a rock  that  rose  out  of 
the  water,  lay  something  round,  like  a muddy  stone. 

Two  men  got  into  a canoe  and  paddled  out  to  the 
rock.  There  they  saw  Mikchich  sunning  himself. 

The  turtle  raised  his  head.  “Good-by  !”  he 
called.  And  he  plumped  off  into  the  water. 


SEVENTH  TALE 
GLOOSKAP  AND  KITPOOSAGUNO1 

Glooskap  overtook  his  family  not  many  days 
after  he  left  Mikchich.  The  marten  had  made  a 
camp  on  the  beach.  He  had  dragged  the  canoe 
out  of  the  water  and  turned  it  over  for  a shelter. 

A fire  burned  on  the  sand.  The  old  grandmother 
was  broiling  fish  on  the  coals. 

The  little  marten  welcomed  Glooskap.  “I  am 
glad  you  have  come,  elder  brother,”  he  said.  “It  is 
hard  for  me  to  steer  the  canoe  alone  !” 

The  next  morning  Glooskap  and  Abistanooch 
1 KIt-poos-a-gun-o 


58  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


dragged  the  canoe  to  wa- 
ter. All  got  in ; Gloos- 
kap  pushed  off. 

“Whither  do  we  go  ?” 
asked  his  old  grandmother. 

“To  visit  Kitpoosa- 
guno,  on  his  island,”  an- 
swered Glooskap. 

A gale  was  blowing,  but 
Glooskap  paddled,  and  the  * 
canoe  rode  the  sea  like  a 
feather.  The  pitching  of 
the  boat  made  the  old  Bear 
Woman  drowsy  ; and  she 
curled  up  in  the  stern 
and  went  to  sleep. 
Glooskap  could  hear 
her  snore  above  the 
noise  of  the  wind. 

The  sun  was  set- 
ting when  the  island  rose 
in  sight.  It  was  high  and 


GLOOSKAP  AND  KITPOOSAGUNO 


59 

rocky  ; but  on  one  side  was  a bay,  shut  in  between 
cliffs.  Thither  Glooskap  steered,  into  smooth  water. 

“Awake,  grandmother,”  he  cried  as  he  sprang 
ashore. 

Kitpoosaguno  heard  the  voices  and  came  has- 
tening down  to  the  beach. 

“Kwai!”  he  roared.  “Welcome,  friends  ! Come 
to  my  wigwam.  Come  and  we  will  feast  !” 

Kitpoosaguno  was  a giant,  and  his  wigwam  was 
like  a mountain.  He  was  Glooskap’s  friend.  Both 
made  war  on  the  kookwesses  1 who  had  slain  the 
good  giant’s  mother. 

Kitpoosaguno  led  his  friends  into  his  wigwam. 
All  that  evening  they  feasted,  and  into  the  night. 
In  the  morning  the  giant  set  his  pot  a-boiling,  and 
they  feasted  again.  When  night  fell,  the  giant 
said,  “Let  us  go  on  the  sea  and  spear  fish  by  torch- 
light !” 

“Shall  we  spear  salmon  ?”  asked  Glooskap. 

“Nay!”  roared  the  giant.  “Let  us  spear  whales  !” 

“It  is  good  sport,”  laughed  Glooskap. 

1 kook-wess-es 


6o 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


The  giant  lighted  a torch  of  pitch  and  led  the 
way  to  the  beach. 

In  the  sand  near  the  water  lay  a large  rock. 

The  giant  stooped, 
and  felt  of  it  with  his 
hands. 

“This  shall  be  our 
boat  !”  he  roared. 
He  lifted  the  rock  to 
his  head ; it  became 
a canoe. 

By  the  torch’s 
light,  he  found  a long, 
Hat  stone  ; and  it  be- 
came a paddle.  With 
a round  stone  for  a 
hammer,  he  struck  a splinter  from  the  edge  of  the 
cliff ; and  it  became  a spear. 

The  giant  put  the  canoe  from  his  head  and  pushed 
it  out  into  the  water. 

“Who  will  take  the  paddle  ?”  he  asked. 

“I  !”  said  Glooskap. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  KITPOOSAGUNO 


61 


“I  will  take  the  spear  !”  laughed  the  giant. 

They  stepped  aboard.  As  they  stood,  side  by  side 
in  the  torchlight,  Glooskap  seemed  almost  as  tall  as 
the  giant. 

Kitpoosaguno  bound  the  torch  to  the  bow  of  the 
canoe.  He  took  his  spear,  ready  to  strike. 

Glooskap  dipped  his  paddle  ; the  canoe  swung  away. 

A shield  of  bark  was  put  over  the  torch,  that 
its  flame  might  not 
blind  the  giant’s 
eyes.  By  the  light 
that  fell  on  the 
water,  the  two  men 
could  see  fish  swim- 
ming in  the  bottom 
of  the  sea. 

They  had  not  been 
out  long,  when  they 
passed  over  a huge 
black  mass  that 
moved.  It  was  a 
great  whale. 


62 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Kitpoosaguno  hurled  his  spear.  “A  strike,”  he 
roared,  “a  strike  !” 

He  caught  the  handle  as  it  came  up  and  raised  the 
whale  aloft,  whirling  it  above  his  head  like  a minnow. 
The  whale  bellowed  and  squirmed  upon  the  spear. 

“Good  fishing!”  the  giant  roared. 

He  drew  the  whale  off  the  point  of  his  spear  and 
tossed  it  into  the  canoe.  The  whale  struggled, 
beating  and  lashing  with  its  tail.  The  giant  roared 
with  delight. 

Glooskap  steered  to  shore.  The  giant  shouldered 
the  dead  whale  and  sprang  out  on  the  sand.  He 
led  the  way  to  his  wigwam ; Glooskap  followed 
with  the  torch. 

Kitpoosaguno  spitted  the  whale  over  the  fire  to 
roast.  His  spit  was  a pine  tree,  lopped  of  branches. 

When  the  meat  steamed,  the 
giant  took  the  whale  from  the 
spit.  “Your  knife  !”  he  said. 
Glooskap  handed  him  his 
stone  knife  ; and  the  giant  split  the  steaming  whale 
in  twain. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  KITPOOSAGUNO  63 

“A  good  feast  !”  he  roared  ; and  he  and  Glooskap 
ate  the  whale  between  them. 

Kitpoosaguno,  his  stomach  filled,  was  full  of 
frolic.  He  went  to  the  door,  raised  the  skin,  and 
put  out  his  head.  Twilight  had  faded,  but  there 
was  a little  red  in  the  sky.  The  giant  came  back. 

“The  sky  is  red  !”  he  roared.  “We  shall  have 
cold  to-night  !”  He  looked  at  his  friend,  and 
laughed. 

Glooskap  knew  what  he  meant.  Kitpoosaguno 
was  going  to  bring  cold  by  magic. 

“Let  us  have  a good  fire  !”  Glooskap  said,  smil- 
ing. 

Then  he  bade  Abistanooch  fetch  in  wood  for 
the  fire.  The  marten  did  so,  un- 
til he  had  a heap  higher 
than  a tree,  be- 
side the  door. 

The  giant  had 
killed  a porpoise 
the  day  before ; 
and  he  had  tried 


64 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


out  the  oil  into  two  great  kettles,  that  stood  by  the 
door. 

“ Pour  the  oil  on  the  wood  ; it  will  make  it  burn  \” 
roared  the  giant ; he  was  full  of  glee. 

The  marten  emptied  the  kettles  over  the  wood. 
He  heaped  sticks  on  the  fire,  and  the  flames  went 


roaring  upward  to  the  smoke  hole.  Glooskap  and 
the  giant  sat,  smoking  and  telling  tales.1 

The  fire  gave  little  heat.  The  oil  burned  fiercely, 
but  icy  air  came  rushing  down  the  smoke  hole. 
Abistanooch  and  the  old  grandmother  sat  shivering. 
At  midnight  the  fire  burned  down.  The  marten 
1 See  Note  24. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  KIT  POOS  AGUNO 


65 


froze  to  death.  The  old  grandmother  groaned, 
sank  on  the  floor,  and  died.  The  wigwam  poles 
cracked,  and  rocks  split  with  the  frost. 

Glooskap  and  the  giant  talked  on. 

The  sun  rose  on  the  morrow,  yellow  and  shining. 
The  giant  yawned  ; he  thrust  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe  and  rose  to  his  feet. 

Glooskap  went  to  where  the  marten  lay.  “Up, 
little  brother,”  he  called.  “Awake,  grandmother  !” 

The  old  Bear  Woman  arose  and  put  the  pot  on 
the  fire,  for  breakfast. 

The  pot  boiled,  the  meal  was  eaten,  and  the  giant 
took  down  his  bow. 

“Let  us  go  hunting  !”  he  roared.  He  strode 
from  the  wigwam  ; Glooskap  followed  him. 

The  game,  that  day,  seemed  to  know  Glooskap 
and  the  giant  were  out  hunting.  Flocks  of  ducks 
rose  from  the  lakes  and  flew  away.  The  deer  fled 
into  the  forest. 

The  hunters  got  only  a small  beaver  that  Gloos- 
kap killed. 

They  skinned  the  beaver,  and  the  giant  tied  its 


IND.  HERO  TALES 5 


66 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


pelt  to  his  garter ; it  hung  dangling  at  his  knee, 
like  a mouse  skin.  As  the  giant  walked,  the  pelt 
grew  and  grew,  until  it 
broke  away  by  its  weight. 

“ It  is  a big  skin  !” 
roared  the  giant,  laughing. 

He  twisted  a sapling 
into  a withe  and  tied  the 
pelt  to  his  waist.  Still 
the  skin  grew,  until 
it  tore  a roadway 
through  the  forest, 
uprooting  trees  in 
its  path. 

The  hunters 
reached  home  at 
nightfall.  They  put  out  in  their  canoe  and  again 
speared  whales.  As  they  came  in  from  their  fish- 
ing, Glooskap  said  : “The  sky  is  red.  I think  we 
shall  have  cold  to-night  !” 

The  giant  understood.  “Good!”  he  roared; 
and  his  laugh  shook  the  cliffs. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  KITPOOSAGUNO  67 

They  returned  to  the  wigwam.  Again  the  mar- 
ten brought  in  wood.  The  old  grandmother  even 
fetched  skins  for  the  men  to  wrap  them  in. 

It  was  colder  this  time.  Before  midnight  the 
fire  had  burned  out.  Soon  the  little  marten  died. 
The  old  grandmother  lay  on  her  back  with  her 
eyes  shut,  frozen.  Even  the  giant  shivered  under 
his  robe. 

Glooskap  talked  on,  caring  nothing  for  the  cold. 

Morning  came  at  last.  Glooskap  brought  the 
marten  and  the  old  Bear  Woman  back  to  life,  took 
leave  of  the  good  giant,  and  went  away. 


EIGHTH  TALE 

THE  LITTLE  LADS  AND  THE  KOOKWESSES 

The  kookwesses  that  slew  Kitpoosaguno’s 
mother  were  giants.  They  were  a wicked  folk. 
Their  bodies  were  covered  with  hair,  and  they 
hunted  men  ; but  they  had  not  much  wit. 

When  Glooskap  was  on  Kitpoosaguno’s  island,  a 
thing  happened  that  made  a great  noise  in  the  land. 

Some  little  lads  had  gone  out  to  hunt  birds.  A 
kookwess  saw  the  boys.  “They  are  fat  !”  he 
thought;  “I  will  call  them  to  me.”  He  began  to 
drum  on  his  breast  like  a cock  partridge. 

The  lads  heard  the  drumming.  “A  partridge  !” 


68 


THE  LITTLE  LADS  AND  THE  KOOKWESSES  69 

they  cried  ; and  they  stole  through  the  forest  with 
arrows  drawn. 

The  kookwess  was  hidden  in  a hollow.  The  boys 
were  almost  upon  him  when  the  giant  rose,  caught 
the  lads  and  dropped  them, 
one  by  one,  upon  a stone,  to 
kill  them. 

The  giant  had  none  too 
much  wit.  What  he  thought 
was  a stone  was  an  ant  hill. 

The  boys  were  only  stunned. 

The  kookwess  tossed  the 
lads  into  the  boochkajoo,1  or 
bark  basket  on  his  back,  and  started  home.  The 
jolting  of  the  basket  brought  the  boys  out  of  their 
swoon.  They  sat  up.  One  began  to  weep. 

“Do  not  weep!”  said  the  eldest.  “Let  us  try 
to  get  out  of  the  basket  !” 

They  drew  together,  talking  in  whispers. 

One  of  the  boys  had  a knife.  “Let  us  cut  a hole 
in  the  basket,”  he  said. 

■ 1 booch-ka-joo-  See  Note  25. 


70 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


“Good  !”  said  the  eldest.  “But  do  not  let  the 
kookwess  hear  us  !” 

They  waited  until  the  giant  was  passing  through 

the  thickest  part  of  the 
forest.  The  scraping 
of  the  basket  against 
the  tree  tops  drowned 
the  noise  of  the  knife. 

The  boys  soon  cut  a 
hole  big  enough.  One 
by  one,  they  dropped 
to  the  ground.  The 
eldest  dropped  last. 

The  giant  was  so 
strong  that  he  did  not 
feel  how  light  the  bas- 
ket had  become. 

When  he  got  home, 
he  put  down  the  basket  by  his  door,  and  went  in. 
An  older  kookwess  was  sitting  by  the  fire. 

“ Father,”  said  the  other,  “I  bring  game  to-day  ! ” 
The  elder  giant  got  up,  and  both  Went  outside. 


THE  LITTLE  LADS  AND  THE  KOOKWESSES  71 

They  raised  the  lid  of  the  basket.  The  boys  were 
gone  ! 

The  younger  giant  made  a great  howl.  “We 
shall  go  to  bed  hungry  !”  he  bawled. 

His  father  led  him  into  the  wigwam.  “We  have 
a little  meat,  son,”  he  said.  He  raked  coals  out 
of  the  ashes  and  spitted  the  meat,  to  roast  it. 

The  lads  meanwhile  had  reached  home.  Their 
story  made  a great  stir  in  the  village. 

Friends  and  kinsmen  caught  up  bows  and  ran  to 
the  hollow  where  the  giant  had  hidden.  They  fol- 
lowed his  trail  by  the  trees  broken  down  in  his 
path. 

They  reached  the  giants’  wigwam  at  sundown. 
Through  cracks  in  the  bark  roof,  they  saw  the  two 
giants  sitting,  waiting  for  their  meal  to  cook. 

Pitt!  — an  arrow  came  flitting  through  the  bark 
covering  of  the  wigwam.  It  struck  the  kookwess 
who  had  carried  off  the  children. 

He  put  up  his  hand  and  felt  his  side.  “It  hurts 
me  here  !”  he  said.  He  thought  he  had  a stitch. 

But  pitt!  — another  arrow  struck  him,  and 


72  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

another.  The  kookwess  slipped  down  on  the  floor. 
His  eyes  closed. 

“‘Do  you  sleep,  son  ?”  the  elder  asked. 

As  he  spoke,  pitt!  — an  arrow  struck  him  also. 
A sharp  pain  went  through  him.  His  head  swam. 
He  fell  over  on  his  side. 

The  Indians  rushed  in.  The  two  giants  were 
dead. 


NINTH  TALE 

GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WITCHES 

Some  of  the  forest  folk  envied  Glooskap,  and 
about  this  time  rose  up  against  him.  “Why  should 
we  obey  Glooskap  ?”  they  asked.  They  forgot 
the  many  times  he  had  come  to  their  help. 

A council  was  called.  Runners  were  sent  through- 
out the  land,  and  the  people  came  flocking  in  from 
every  part. 

They  met  in  a long  lodge.1  The  old  men  and 
warriors  sat  in  the  back  ; the  women  and  children, 
on  the  left  of  the  door. 

1 See  Note  26. 


73 


74 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Some  have  it  that  Mikchich  was  chief  of  the 
council ; but  this  is  not  true.  Mikchich  loved  his 
nephew  and  was  faithful  to  him  while  he  lived. 

The  people  feasted,  and  there  was  much  speaking. 

Some  cried,  “We 
will  slay  Gloos- 
kap  !”  Others 
said,  “No,  let  us 
put  him  down 
from  being  our 
chief!”  Few 
had  any  good  to 
say  of  him. 

Glooskap  knew 
all  that  was  going 
on.  He  smiled  that  any  should  think  to  slay  him. 

The  third  day  of  the  council,  a strange  old  woman 
came  into  the  lodge.  She  was  bent,  and  walked 
with  a stick  ; and  her  thin,  gray  hair  fell  in  her  eyes. 

It  was  Glooskap  dressed  in  his  grandmother’s 
skirt,  with  his  hair  falling  loose. 

No  one  offered  the  stranger  a seat.  She  came 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  WITCHES 


75 

and  sat  down  between  two  witches,  the  Toad 
Woman  and  the  Porcupine  Woman ; they  were 
listening  to  the  speeches.1 

The  stranger  sat  awhile,  silent.  At  last  she  asked 
humbly,  “You  think  to  slay  Glooskap;  but  will  that 
be  easy  to  do  ?” 

The  witches 
were  angered  that 
the  stranger 
should  speak  to 
them.  They 
scowled  at  her. 

“What  is  that 
to  you  ?”  said  the 
Toad  Woman, 
rudely. 

The  stranger  shrunk  back.  “I  meant  no  harm,” 
she  said  softly. 

Presently  she  arose.  Leaning  on  her  stick,  she 
gently  touched  the  tips  of  the  witches’  noses.  Then 
she  went  away. 


1 See  Note  27. 


76 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


The  speaking  ended.  The  two  witches  looked 
up  ; and  each  saw  that  the  other’s  nose  was  gone. 

Screaming  in  terror,  they  rushed  out  and  ran 
to  a pool.  They  bent  over  the  water  and  looked. 
Their  noses  were  flat  ! 

So  it  came  that  the  toad  and  the  porcupine  lost 
their  noses  ; and  they  have  none  to  this  day  ! 


TENTH  TALE 
GLOOSKAP  AND  POKINSKWESS 

After  this,  Glooskap  went  to  live  with  a village 
of  Indians  called  Pogumks,1  or  Fishers.  The  vil- 
lagers welcomed  him.  “You  bring  us  luck,”  they 
said.  “Our  nets  never  brought  up  so  many  fish  !” 
They  even  made  him  their  chief. 

But  there  was  one  in  the  village  who  spoke  no 
good  of  Glooskap.  This  was  Pokinskwess 2 ; and 
he  was  full  of  envy  because  he  wanted  to  be  chief 
himself.  He  thought  long  how  he  might  slay 
Glooskap  or  put  him  out  of  the  village. 

1 Po-gumks  2 Pok-In-skwess 


77 


78 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Spring  came,  and  the  villagers  were  making  ready 
to  move  camp.  All  was  bustle  and  noise  among 
the  wigwams.  Dogs  were  yelping.  Children  were 
running  about.  The  women  were  rolling  up  the 
bark  coverings  of  their  lodges 
to  load  upon  their  backs. 

Pokinskwess  came  to  Glooskap. 
“The  camp  is  not  yet  ready  to 
march,”  he  said.  “Let  us  go  to 
yonder  island  and  gather  gulls’ 
eggs.”  He  pointed  to  an  island 
off  the  coast. 

Glooskap  was  willing.  He  went 
down  to  the  beach  with  Pokin- 
skwess, and  they  launched  a canoe.  Glooskap 
held  the  boat  while  Pokinskwess  got  in.  They 
paddled  to  the  island. 

There  was  no  beach  to  land  upon.  The  island 
was  but  a rocky  cliff,  rising  in  the  water.  The 
gulls’  nests  were  in  clefts  of  the  rock  overhead. 

Many  of  the  gulls  had  young,  and  were  bringing 
them  food. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  POKINSKWESS 


79 


Pokinskwess  brought  his  canoe  around  to  the 
foot  of  the  cliff. 

“Who  shall  climb  for  the 


eggs 


he  asked. 


“I,”  said  Glooskap. 

“I  will  stay  to  guard  the 
canoe,”  said  Pokinskwess. 

Glooskap  climbed  up  the 
cliff.  He  had  a basket  on  his 
back,  and  into  it  he  put  the 
eggs.  The  gulls  flew  about  him 
in  a white  cloud.  They  made 
a great  outcry. 

Pokinskwess  sat  in  the  ca- 
noe, paddle  in  hand.  When 
Glooskap  was  but  a speck  on 
the  cliff,  Pokinskwess  softly 
stole  away. 

He  reached  home  just  as 
the  villagers  were  setting  off. 

They  wondered  why  Glooskap  did  not  come  with 
them.  Pokinskwess  said  nothing. 


8o 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


At  night,  the  villagers  made  camp  and  awaited 
Glooskap.  When  he  did  not  come,  the  old  men  made 
Pokinskwess  chief  in  his  stead. 

Glooskap,  meanwhile,  could  find  no  way  to  leave 
the  island.  But  he  did  not  fear ; he  had  gulls’ 
eggs  to  eat,  and  in  a hollow  in  the  rocks  he  found 
rain  water.  He  could  not  starve. 

“The  sea  serpent  will  help  me  !’’  said  Glooskap 
at  last.  And  he  began  to  sing : 

“Sea  serpent,  grandfather  under  the  ocean, 

I,  Glooskap,  call  you  !’’ 

The  sea  serpent  was  old  and  fat  and  lazy ; and 
he  lay  asleep  on  the  bottom  of  the  ocean. 

The  song  waked  him  ; he  raised  his  head. 

“I  thought  I heard  my  grandson  singing,”  he  said. 

He  listened.  Again  he  heard  the  song. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  POKINSKWESS  81 

The  old  serpent  wriggled  his  tail,  and  began  to 
swim  upward  in  the  water.  He  came  out  not  far 
from  the  island,  and  soon  lay  at  the  foot  of  the 
cliff,  where  the  canoe  had  been. 

“I  am  here,  grandson  !”  he  called. 

Glooskap  had  his  robe  belted  about  him  for  the 
wind  was  chill  upon  the  cliff.  In  the  folds  of  his 
robe  he  made  a pocket  and  dropped  two  round 
stones  within.  He  climbed  down  the  cliff  and 
leaped  astride  the  serpent’s  back. 

“Take  me  to  land,  grandfather  !”  he  cried. 

The  serpent  bent  his  tail  and  went  wriggling 
over  the  sea.  But  he  was  old  and  lazy.  There 
had  been  a calm ; now  waves  rolled,  for  Pokin- 
skwess  had  raised  a storm.  It  was  hard  for  the 
serpent  to  swim.  Slower  he  wriggled,  and  slower. 
He  almost  stopped. 

Glooskap  took  a stone  from  the  pocket  of  his 
robe.  He  threw  it  with  all  his  strength,  and  whack! 
— it  struck  one  of  the  serpent’s  yellow  horns. 

“Grandson,”  cried  the  sea  serpent,  “spare  my 
horn  !” 


IND.  HERO  TALES 6 


82 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


The  serpent  wriggled  on.  But 


the  waves  were  high,  and  the  swim-' 
ming  was  hard  ; and  he  had  a longing  to  rest.  He 
stretched  out  on  the  water,  when  whack!  — a stone 
struck  his  other  horn. 

“Grandson,”  he  cried  again,  “spare  my  horn  !” 

Glooskap  laughed  aloud.  “ Do  not  sleep,  grand- 
father !”  he  cried. 

At  last  they  came  to  land.  Glooskap  sprang 
ashore,  and  the  serpent  dived  to  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean. 

Glooskap  was  soon  at  the  place  where  the  village 
had  stood.  Night  was  coming  on  ; he  crept  under 
a shelter  of  branches  and  slept. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  POKINSKWESS  83 

Early  the  next  morning  he  found  the  villagers’  trail 
and  followed  it.  In  a few  days,  he  knew  he  was 
nearing  their  camp. 

One  afternoon,  he 
overtook  them  on  the 
march. 

The  very  first  one 
he  saw  was  his  old 
grandmother,  hobbling 
along  on  a stick.  She 
was  lame  and  had 
fallen  behind.  On  her 
back  was  Abistanooch, 
strapped  in  a cradle,  like  a babe.1  They  looked 
starved  and  weak. 

■ From  his  place  on  her  back,  Abistanooch  saw 
Glooskap  coming  through  the  trees,  and  cried  out, 
“Grandmother,  I see  my  elder  brother  !’’ 

The  old  grandmother  turned,  but  Glooskap  had 
hid.  “Foolish  one,”  she  cried,  “Glooskap  is  not 
here  !”  Tears  came  into  her  eyes. 


1 See  Note  28. 


84 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


A little  way  on,  Abistanooch  cried  again,  “ Grand- 
mother, I see  my  brother  !” 

The  old  Bear  Woman  turned  quickly  and  saw 
Glooskap.  She  cried  out  and  danced  for  joy, 
dropping  the  little  marten  from  her  back.  He  crept 
from  his  cradle,  and  all  stood  and  laughed. 

Abistanooch  told  his  brother  all  the  evil  Pokin- 
skwess  did  him.  “He  makes  me  serve  him,”  he  said. 

“All  night  I care  for 
his  babe  !” 

Glooskap  told  him 
what  he  should  do. 
“Go  into  camp,”  he 
said.  “Build  a hot 
fire  of  hemlock  bark. 
Catch  up  Pokin- 
skwess’s  babe  and 
make  as  if  you  would 
throw  it  in  the  fire. 
Then  run  to  me  !” 

All  this  the  marten  did.  He  caught  up  the  babe, 
and  Pokinskwess  sprang  at  him  in  wrath. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  POKINSKWESS  85 


Help,  elder  brother  !”  he 


Abistanooch  fled, 
cried. 

“Glooskap  cannot 
help  you,”  cried  Pokin- 
skwess.  Glooskap 
stepped  from  behind  a 
tree.  “I  am  here,” 
he  cried. 

Fear  came  into  Pokin- 
skwess’s  eyes.  “I  but 
ran  at  Abistanooch  in 
sport  !”  he  said. 

“I  know  you  and 
your  evil  ways,”  cried 
Glooskap ; and  he  hurled  Pokinskwess  with  his 
back  against  a tree. 

Pokinskwess  stuck  fast  to  the  trunk.  Glooskap 
and  Abistanooch  went  on  into  the  camp,  laughing. 

Pokinskwess  carried  a hatchet  and  wedge  1 in  his 
belt.  With  these  he  set  to  cutting  himself  loose ; 
and  all  that  night  they  in  camp  could  hear  him 


1 See  Note  29. 


86 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


pounding  and  chopping  at  the  wood.  In  the  morn- 
ing they  saw  that  he  had  a great  lump  of  wood  on 
his  back.  All  mocked  him,  and  the  women  cried  : 
“ Pokinskwess  forsook  Glooskap  ; and  now  he  has 
a lump  of  wood  on  his  back  ! ” 

Pokinskwess  fled,  mad  with  shame.  “Men  mock 
me  !”  he  said  aloud.  “Would  I were  something 
to  bite  and  sting  them  forever  !” 

As  he  spoke,  lo,  he  shrunk  small  as  his  own  wicked 
soul  ! His  mouth  grew  long,  like  a sting.  His 
arms  became  wings.  He  became  a mosquito,  that 
bites  and  stings  men.  On  the  mosquito’s  back  is 
a lump,  like  a wedge  of  wood. 


ELEVENTH  TALE 
PULOWECH,1  GLOOSKAP’S  FRIEND 

I.  PuLOWECH  GETS  HlM  A WlFE 

Pulowech,  the  partridge,  and  his  cousin  Wejek2 
were  hunters.  They  had  a camp  by  a lake,  where 
maple  and  ash  trees  grew.  Pulowech  was  Glooskap’s 
friend. 

The  cousins  were  not  alike.  Pulowech  was  slow 
to  speak,  and  did  nothing  in  a hurry.  Wejek  was 
younger ; he  had  a good  heart,  but  he  was  hasty. 

One  day  in  winter,  Pulowech  was  walking  by  the 
lake.  As  he  came  around  a rock,  he  saw  three 
’Pul-o-wech.  See  Note  30.  2We-jek 


87 


88 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


girls  sitting  by  an  air  hole  in  the  ice  ; they  were 
braiding  their  hair  and  laughing. 

Pulowech  stood  watching  them.  “They  are 
water  maidens,”  he  thought,  and  a longing  filled 

his  soul.  “I  will 
steal  one  and 
have  her  for  my 
wife,”  he  said 
softly.  “She  shall 
keep  my  pot  boil- 
ing for  me  !”  And 
he  stole  over  the 
ice  toward  the 
girls. 

A hard  snow  lay 
on  the  ice.  Pulo- 
wech was  almost  up  to  the  girls  when  his  foot 
crunched  through  the  snow,  making  a noise.  One 
of  the  maidens  looked  up. 

“ Oo /”  she  cried.  “I  see  a man!”  And  all 
plumped  head-first  into  the  water. 

Pulowech  went  slowly  home.  He  could  not  put 


PULOWECH,  GLOOSKAP’S  FRIEND 


89 


the  youngest  of  the  girls  out  of  his  mind.  “Her 
teeth  were  like  shells  !”  he  thought  ; and  he  sighed. 

But  Pulowech  was  not  a man  who  gave  up  easily. 

He  was  up  before  daylight,  and  went  again  to  the 
lake,  where  he  gathered  fir  boughs  and  craftily 
strewed  them  about  the  shore.  “The  water  maid- 
ens will  think  the  wind  blew  them  there,’’  he  said 
to  himself. 

He  laid  one  bough  far  out  on  the  ice  ; under  it  he 
crept  and  hid,  waiting  for  morning. 

The  sun  arose.  Pulowech  peeped  out  and  saw 
the  water  in  the  hole  all  golden  in  the  light. 

Soon  a pretty  head  popped  up  in  the  water,  then 
another,  and  another ; and  three  merry  maidens, 
laughing,  clambered 
up  on  the  ice.  They 
unbound  and  began 
to  braid  their  hair. 

Pulowech  crept 
from  under  the  fir  bough  and  ran  towards  the  maid- 
ens. Again,  one  hearing  his  steps,  cried  out,  “ Oo! 
I see  a man  !”  And  all  went  head-first  under  the  ice. 


9o 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


But  Pulowech  did  not  go  away  empty-handed. 
In  her  haste,  the  youngest  of  the  girls  had  dropped 
her  hairstring,  and  it  lay  on  the  ice.  Pulowech 
picked  it  up. 

“She  will  come  to  me  !”  he  thought.  “Her  life 
is  in  the  string  !” 

In  his  wigwam,  he  tied  the  hairstring  to  the  tent 
pole,  above  the  place  where  he 
sat.  He  filled  his  pipe  and 
waited. 

In  a little  while  there  came 
footsteps.  Gently  the  door-skin 
was  pushed  aside  and  the  maiden 
entered.  She  saw  the  hairstring. 
Tears  were  in  her  eyes,  but  she 
smiled. 

She  went  to  the  fire  and  knelt 
to  stir  the  coals.  Then  she 
put  water  in  the  pot,  and  dried  meat,  and  set 
it  on  the  fire  to  boil. 

Pulowech,  watching  her,  smiled  softly.  He  knew 
she  would  have  him  for  her  husband. 


PULOWECH,  GLOOSKAP’S  FRIEND 


9i 


Boooins  and  witches  were  then  in  the  land.  Pulo- 
wech  never  left  his  wife  alone,  fearing  they  might 
find  her  and  steal  her  from  him. 

But  a time  came  when  he  had  to  leave  her. 
Wejek  was  gone.  There  was  little  to  eat  in  the 
wigwam,  and  Pulowech  had  to  hunt  or  his  wife 
would  go  hungry.  He 
made  ready  to  go. 

“Open  to  no  one,” 
he  told  his  wife,  “af- 
ter the  sun  sets.  The 
boooins  cannot  enter 
while  the  door  is  fast  !” 

“I  will  not  open,” 
she  said. 

Pulowech  started  off. 

Before  the  sun  went  down,  his  wife  fetched  in  a 
heap  of  wood  for  the  night.  She  drew  the  door 
and  made  it  fast  with  a thong. 


92 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


She  stirred  up  the  fire,  put  on  wood,  and  lay 
down.  The  blaze  was  warm  and  pleasant.  It  was 
cold  outside. 

At  midnight  a wind  arose.  The  little  wife  awoke. 
There  was  a noise  as  of  scraping  at  the  door ; she 
listened. 

“Open  !”  said  a voice. 

“No,”  she  answered  bravely;  but  her  heart  beat 
fast. 

And  well  might  she  be  frightened.  The  voice 
was  of  an  old  boooin  ; he  had  come,  with  his  friends, 
to  take  her. 

The  boooin  changed  his  voice,  speaking  now 
like  her  sister,  now  like  her  brother,  “Open,  dear 
sister  !” 

She  would  not  open. 

Again  the  boooin  changed  his  voice.  The  little 
wife  thought  that  she  heard  her  mother,  then  her 
old  father,  calling  to  her,  “Open,  daughter;  I am 
weary  and  cold  !” 

Her  heart  ached.  She  ran  to  the  door  and  untied 
the  thong. 


PULOWECH,  GLOOSKAP’S  FRIEND  93 

The  old  boooin  sprang  into  the  wigwam.  “Take 
her!”  he  screamed;  and  his  friends  dragged  her 
away  into  the  forest. 

Far  off,  they  built  a fire  and  fetched  drums,  and 
passed  the  night  feasting  and  singing.  When  they 
departed,  nothing  was 
left  of  the  little  wife. 

That  same  morning, 

Wejek  came  home.  He 
wondered  to  see  tracks 
about  the  door.  He 
stooped  and  looked  at 
them. 

“They  are  boooins’ 
tracks  !”  he  cried. 

He  ran  into  the  wigwam.  It  was  empty. 

“My  cousin’s  wife  is  stolen  !”  cried  Wejek;  and 
he  ran  out,  following  the  boooins’  trail. 

He  overtook  the  boooins  just  as  they  were  leav- 
ing their  feast. 

They  fell  upon  him  with  cries.  Wejek  fought ; 
but  in  the  end,  they  slew  him. 


94 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


The  evening  of  the  same  day,  Pulowech  came 
home  loaded  with  venison.  His  heart  sank  when  he 
found  his  wigwam  empty. 

“Wife,  wife  !”  he  called.  There  was  no  answer. 
Wejek’s  knife  lay  on  the  floor. 

Pulowech  did  not  act  hastily.  He  made  a fire, 
ate,  and  spread  his  robe  to  sleep  ; but  before  he  lay 

down,  he  set  a wooden 
bowl  in  the  back  of  the 
wigwam  and  filled  it 
with  water. 

In  the  morning  when 
he  looked,  the  bowl  was 
full  of  blood  ; and  Pulo- 
wech knew  that  his  wife 
and  cousin  were  slain. 
“I  will  find  them  who 
did  it  !”  he  cried,  as  he  caught  up  his  bow  and 
hatchet. 


PULOWECH,  GLOOSKAP’S  FRIEND  95 

The  boooins’  tracks  were  not  new,  but  nothing 
escaped  Pulowech’s  eyes  ; he  followed  the  trail,  un- 
wearied. 

He  had  not  gone  many  days,  when  he  came  to  a 
cliff  overhanging  the  way.  He  was  passing  under, 
when  he  looked  up  and  saw  a man’s  knee  sticking 
out  of  the  solid  rock. 

Pulowech  knew  what  it  was.  Boooins  have 
power  to  enter  stone  ; and  one  of  them  was  trying 
to  hide  in  the  rock. 

Pulowech  cut  off  the  knee  with  his  hatchet.  The 
cliff  closed  over  the  boooin,  hiding  him  forever. 

A little  way  on,  Pulowech  saw  a foot  sticking 
out  of  the  rock.  It  he  also  cut  off. 

He  had  now  slain  two. 

As  he  came  out  from  the  cliff,  a little  squirrel 
dragged  herself,  half  dead  from  cold,  into  his  path. 
Pulowech  took  her  up  and  put  her  in  his  bosom. 

“Rest,  little  one!”  he  said.  “You  shall  fight  for 
me  to-day  !” 

He  came  to  a lake.  A flock  of  geese  were  swimming 
about,  thrusting  their  long  necks  under  the  water. 


96 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Pulowech  looked  at  them.  “You  are  not  what 
you  seem  !’’  he  thought.  They  were  boooins  who 
had  changed  themselves  into  geese. 

Pulowech  hid  ; and  when  the  geese  swam  near 
shore,  he  shot  them  with  his  arrows.  He  gathered 


them  in,  tied  their  heads  together,  and  flung  them 
over  his  shoulder. 

The  waters  of  the  lake  flowed  into  a river ; and 
where  the  river  began,  Pulowech  found  a wigwam 
standing  alone. 

He  dropped  his  geese  by  the  door  and  entered. 
An  old  man  was  within.  Pulowech  no  sooner  saw 
him  than  he  knew  him  for  a boooin. 

The  old  man  spoke  to  him  sourly.  He  cooked 
meat  and  put  it  in  a bowl  as  if  to  give  it  him  ; but 
when  Pulowech  reached  to  take  it,  the  old  man 
snatched  the  bowl  away. 


PULOWECH,  GLOOSKAP’S  FRIEND  97 

“No,”  he  said  rudely,  “I  had  rather  my  dog  ate 
it  !”  He  did  this  more  than  once. 

Pulowech  answered 
nothing. 

“ Did  you  see  any 
strange  thing  to- 
day ?”  sneered  the 
old  man.  He  knew 
who  Pulowech  was. 

“Nothing  very 
strange,”  Pulowech 
answered  ; “ I saw  a 
knee  and  a foot  sticking  out  of  a cliff  ; I chopped 
them  off.  I shot  some  geese  on  a lake ; they  lie 
by  your  door,  dead  !” 

This  put  the  boodin  in  a fury.  “Had  you  a 
dog,”  he  screamed,  “he  should  fight  mine;  we 
should  see  which  of  us  is  stronger  !” 

“I  have  a dog!”  said  Pulowech,  smiling. 

He  took  the  squirrel  from  his  bosom  and  put  her 
down  by  the  fire.  She  stretched  herself,  and  sat  up. 

The  boooin  laughed. 


IND.  HERO  TALES 7 


98 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


“Dog,  dog!”  he  called;  and  into  the  wigwam 
bounded  a weisum,1  an  ugly  beast  big  as  a bear. 


Before  the  weisum  could  seize  her,  the  squirrel 
leaped  away,  her  tail  a-quiver.  In  a trice  she  had 
grown  as  big  as  the  weisum.  She  flew  at  his  throat. 

Over  they  rolled  into  the  fire,  scattering  ashes 
and  coals.  Smoke  and  the  smell  of  burning  fur 
filled  the  wigwam.  Pulowech  and  the  boooin  ran 
about,  the  boooin  shouting.  The  noise  was  deafen- 
ing. 

The  squirrel  began  to  weary.  Pulowech  stooped 
and  patted  her  back  ; and  there  came  leaping  in 
1 wel-sum.  See  Note  31. 


PULOWECH,  GLOOSKAFS  FRIEND  99 

two  other  squirrels,  her  sons.  They  grew  to  great 
size  and  sprang  at  the  weisum. 

“Call  them  off  !”  screamed  the  boooin.  “The 
weisum  is  my  grandmother’s  dog  ! She  loves  him.” 

Pulowech  would  not  do  this.  The  weisum  was 
soon  dead. 

The  old  boooin  wept  aloud.  “Alack,  my  grand- 
mother!” he  cried.  “Her  dear  weisum  is  dead!” 
He  now  spoke  kindly  to  Pulowech. 

“Grandson,”  he  said,  “let  us  take  my  canoe  and 
go  upon  the  river  !” 

“I  will  go,”  said  Pulowech. 

They  were  soon  seated  in  the  canoe.  The  cur- 
rent bore  them  toward  a cliff,  where  the  river  en- 
tered a cave  ; on  either  side,  the  waves  thundered 
against  the  rock. 

Pulowech  steered  ; but  as  he  neared  the  cliff,  he 
looked  around.  The  boooin  had  just  leaped  ashore  ! 

Pulowech  did  not  try  to  turn  the  canoe.  He 
steadied  her  with  his  paddle,  bowed  his  head,  and 
shot  like  an  arrow  into  the  cave. 

He  could  not  see  to  steer.  The  waters  roared, 


ioo  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


and  the  canoe  spun,  around  and  around  in  the  dark. 
But  Pulowech  felt  no  fear.  Calmly  he  sat  in  the 
how,  singing.1 

After  a while  he  saw  a light  ahead.  He  soon 
came  out  into  daylight.  He  looked  about  him. 
There  was  a rocky  cave  in  the  bank  of  the  river 
and  smoke  arose  from  its  mouth. 

“The  boooin  is  there  !”  Pulowech  thought. 

He  hid  his  canoe,  and  climbed  to  the  cave.  He 
heard  voices  within. 

“I  bring  sad  news,  grandmother,”  said  one. 
“The  best  of  our  band  are  slain.  Your  weisum  is 
dead  also  !”  It  was  the  boooin  that  spoke. 

“Who  slays  our  band  ?”  cried  his  grandmother, 
angrily. 


1 See  Note  32. 


PULOWECH,  GLOOSKAP’S  FRIEND 


IOI 


“Pulowech,  the  partridge/’  answered  the  other. 

His  grandmother  was  in  a rage.  “Would  Pulo- 
wech were  here!”  she  cried;  “I  would  roast  him 
alive  !” 

She  belonged  to  the  porcupine  folk,  who  love  heat. 

“Pulowech  is  dead,”  said  her  grandson.  “I  sent 
him  afloat  in  the  cavern  !” 

“But  I am  alive,”  said  Pulowech  ; and  he  stepped 
into  the  cave.  “Now  roast  me  !”  he  said ; and 
he  sat  down. 

There  was  great  store  of  hemlock  bark  in  the 
cave.  The  boooin  and  his  grandmother  heaped  the 
bark  on  the  fire. 

Hot  flames  roared  upward,  and  the  walls  of  the 
cave  grew  red  with  the  heat.  Pulowech  sat  un- 
moved. 

The  fire  burned  low  at  last. 

Pulowech  went  out  and  fetched  in  more  bark, 
until  the  cave  was  full.  Then  he  closed  the  door. 

“Do  not  slay  us,  grandson  !”  cried  the  boooin. 

Pulowech  answered,  “You  stole  my  w’fe  !”  He 
set  fire  to  the  bark  and  sat  down. 


102 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Again  flames  roared  upward.  Red  hot  stones 
fell  from  the  roof,  and  the  sides  of  the  cave  cracked 
with  the  heat. 

The  fire  died  at  last.  Pulowech  sat  unhurt ; but 
of  the  porcupines,  nothing  was  left. 

Pulowech  arose  and  went  to  his  canoe.  He 
pushed  off  and  sailed  away,  singing. 


TWELFTH  TALE 

GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  GIANT  SORCERERS 

A giant  had  three  sons  and  a daughter ; and  all 
were  sorcerers.  Glooskap  was  their  friend.  The 
old  giant  even  called  him  son,  and  often  feasted 
him  in  his  wigwam. 

But  at  heart  the  old  giant  was  evil ; and  his 
sons  grew  up  worse  than  their  father.  They  became 
boooins  and  hunted  men.  • The  land  groaned  for 
their  wickedness. 

All  this  came  to  Glooskap’s  ears,  for  it  made  a 
noise  among  the  people.  It  grieved  Glooskap. 


103 


104 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


“I  will  go  and  find  if  it  is  true,”  he  said  ; and  he 
departed. 

The  giants’  wigwam  stood  near  the  sea  ; and  as  he 
went  thither,  Glooskap  thought  how  he  should 
meet  the  boooins. 

“I  will  not  let  them  know  me,”  he  said  to  him- 
self. 

The  old  giant  had  but  one  eye.  Glooskap  made 
himself  like  him,  even  to  his  single  eye.  He  en- 
tered the  giant’s  wigwam,  and  found  him  sitting. 
Glooskap  sat  down  and  they  began  to  talk. 

By  and  by,  the  giant’s  sons  came  in.  They  saw 
Glooskap  and  the  old  giant  by  the  fire  talking,  and 
looking  just  alike.  They  could  not  tell  which  was 
their  father. 

The  giant’s  daughter  had  put  a whale’s  tail  in  a 
pot  and  set  it  on  the  fire.  The  meat  was  now 
boiled.  The  girl  put  it  into  a bowl  and  gave  it  to 
Glooskap  to  eat. 

He  set  it  on  his  knees  ; but  before  he  could  take 
a mouthful,  the  eldest  of  the  giant’s  sons  snatched 
the  meat  out  of  the  bowl.  “Beggar,”  he  cried, 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  GIANT  SORCERERS'  105 

“this  is  not  for  you  !”  He  went  out,  taking  the 
meat  with  him. 

Glooskap  did  not  show  his  anger.  “The  meat 
is  mine,”  he  said.  “Your  sister  gave  it  me  !” 

Sitting  with  the  bowl  on  his  knees,  he  thought, 
“I  WISH  THE  MEAT  BACK  IN  THE  BOWL  !” 

And  the  whale’s  tail. 


still  hot,  came  flying  in 
at  the  door  and  fell  in 
the  bowl.  Glooskap  be- 
gan to  eat. 


When  he  had  enough,  J 
Glooskap  put  down  the  M 


bowl.  He  said  nothing. 


The  giants  looked  at 

him,  wondering.  “He  is  a magician  !”  they  thought. 

The  eldest  of  the  young  giants  fetched  in  a whale’s 
jaw,  thick  as  a man’s  thigh.  He  took  the  ends  in  his 
hands  and,  with  all  his  strength,  bent  the  bone  a 
little.  He  laughed,  and  gave  the  jaw  to  Glooskap. 


“Let  us  see,”  he  said,  “what  our  little  brother 
can  do  !” 


io6 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Glooskap  did  not  rise  from  where  he  sat.  With 
thumb  and  finger  of  one  hand,  he  snapped  the 
whale’s  jaw  as  if  it  were  a duck’s  wishbone  ! 

The  boooins  were  filled  with  awe.  “He  is  indeed 
a magician  !”  they  thought. 

They  brought  out  a great  stone  pipe,  and  filled  it 

with  strongest  tobacco, 
that  only  sorcerers  can 
smoke.  They  handed 
the  pipe  around.1 

All  smoked  in  turn, 
blowing  out  great 
clouds;  the  eldest 
handed  the  pipe  to 
Glooskap. 

“Let  our  brother  try  !”  he  said. 

Glooskap  filled  the  bowl  anew.  At  one  pull,  he 
burnt  all  the  tobacco  to  ashes,  and  blew  the  smoke 
from  his  nostrils  in  one  great  puff. 

The  giants  were  troubled.  “He  is  a great  ma- 
gician !”  they  thought. 

1 See  Note  33. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  GIANT  SORCERERS  107 


Again  Glooskap  filled  the  pipe,  and  lighted  it. 
One  of  the  giants  arose  and  made  fast  the  door. 
He  hoped  Glooskap  would  strangle  with  the  smoke. 
But  Glooskap  puffed  away,  caring  not  a bit. 

Not  so  the  giants,  who  sat  choking  and  coughing. 
At  last,  nearly  strangled,  they  opened  the  door 
and  ran  out. 

Glooskap  followed  them,  smiling. 

When  all  had  gotten  breath,  the  giants  went 
apart  and  talked  among  themselves.  They  came  to 
Glooskap. 

“Our  brother,”  they  said,  “is  strong;  but  let  us 
see  his  skill  at  ball  !”  They  led  him  to  a sandy 
plain  in  the  bend  of  a river,  not  far  away. 

One  of  the  giants  put  down  a ball 
and  the  game  began. 

The  ball  was 
a live  skull.  It 
went  rolling  at 
Glooskap’s 
heels,  trying  to 
bite  off  his  foot. 


io8 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Glooskap  laughed.  “You  play  a merry  game 
he  cried,  “but  I too  will  have  a ball  !”  He  broke 
a bough  from  a tree  and  cast  it  on  the  ground. 

The  bough  turned  into  a skull  ten  times  bigger 
than  the  other.  It  rolled  after  the  giants,  bumping 
along  and  snapping  its  great  jaws,  until  they  cried 
for  mercy. 

Glooskap  stamped  upon  the  sand.  With  a mighty 
roar,  waters  came  down  from  the  mountains.  The 
river  rose,  foaming,  and  overflowed  the  plain. 

The  giants  fled ; but  the  flood  caught  them. 
Struggling,  they  heard  Glooskap  singing  above 
the  waves. 

As  they  heard,  they  became  fish.  The  current 
swept  them  to  the  sea. 


THIRTEENTH  TALE 
GLOOSKAP  AND  TUMILKOONTAWOO 1 

Again  Glooskap  brought  his  family  down  by 
the  sea.  He  found  good  fishing,  and  in  the  fall 
flocks  of  sea  ducks  came  flying  down  from  the 
north.  He  made  him  arrows  and  shot  both  ducks 
and  geese.  In  the  mornings,  he  fished  or  speared 
for  eels. 

But  the  weather  grew  windy.  Heavy  gales  blew 
up,  and  the  waves  tossed  his  canoe  so  that  Glooskap 
could  do  little  fishing  ; nor  could  he  spear  eels  in  so 
rough  a sea. 

1 Tum-il-koon'-ta-woo 


109 


no 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Weeks  went  by,  but  the  weather  stayed  fouh 
The  gales  howled  over  the  sea  ; and  waves,  moun- 
tain high,  rolled  inshore.  Glooskap  no  longer  tried 
to  put  out  in  his  canoe.  He  could  not  fish  in  such 
weather. 

for  days  he  sat  in  his  wigwam,  waiting  for  the 
wind  to  die.  Still  the  gales  blew. 

There  was  little  meat  left  in  the  wigwam.  Gloos- 
kap’s  family  were  growing  hungry. 

“You  must  get  us  meat,  grandson,  or  we  starve,” 

said  the  old  Bear  Woman. 

* 

Glooskap  arose  slowly.  He  went  down  to  the 
shore  to  look  for  dead  fish  ; for  the  waves  sometimes 
cast  fish  against  the  beach,  killing  them.  He  walked 
along  the  beach,  going  north.  The  farther  he  went, 
the  fiercer  blew  the  wind. 

“What  makes  the  wind  blow  so  ?”  he  thought. 

He  came  to  a point  of  land  that  jutted  out  into 
the  water.  Just  off  the  point  rose  a rocky  islet. 
Something  dark  sat  on  the  rock.  Glooskap  could 
not  see  what  it  was  for  the  mist. 

He  bent  his  head  to  the  wind  and  waded  out. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  TUMILKOONTAWOO 


1 1 1 


Fiercer  rose  the  gale ; Gloos- 
kap  could  hardly  stand 
against  it.  He  found  shel- 
ter under  the  islet ; and  he 
stood  and  looked  up. 

On  the  top  of  the  rock 
a giant  eagle,  flapping  his  great 
wings.  As  he  moved  them  they  fanned  the  wind 
which  went  rushing  and  raging  over  the  sea. 

“It  is  the  Wind  Bird,”  thought  Glooskap. 

The  chill  mist  fell  about  him,  and  he  shivered.  A 
thought  came  to  him. 

“Grandfather,”  he  called  out,  “are  you  not 
chilled  in  the- wind?” 

“No,  grandson,”  answered  the 
eagle. 

“ But,  grandfather,”  cried  Gloos- 
kap, “your  wings  are  wet  with  the 
mist.  Let  me  carry  you  to  the 
mainland.  There  is  no  mist  there !” 

The  eagle  sat  awhile,  flapping 
his  wings. 


1 1 2 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


“I  will  go,  grandson,”  he  said  at  last.  “I  am 
tired  ot  sitting  here  on  the  rock.” 

“Good,  grandfather!”  cried  Glooskap.  He 
climbed  the  rock,  bent  his  shoulders,  and  took  the 
great  eagle  on  his  back. 

Glooskap  climbed  slowly  down,  and  waded 
through  the  shallow  water  to  the  mainland  ; but 
as  he  came  ashore,  his  foot  slipped,  and  he  stumbled. 
The  eagle,  falling  from  his  shoulders,  broke  his 
wing. 

“I  am  sorry,  grandfather,”  cried  Glooskap. 

He  lifted  the  eagle  to  his  feet,  and  helped  him  get 

to  a place  out  of  the  wind. 
He  bound  up  the  broken  wing 
with  willows,  for  splints. 

“Does  it  hurt  you,  grand- 
father ?”  he  asked. 

“No,  grandson,”  answered 
the  eagle. 

“Sit  here,  grandfather,”  said  Glooskap.  “Do 
not  move  your  wing,  or  the  bones  will  not  knit. 
Each  day  I will  bring  you  fish  to  eat.” 


GLOOSKAP  AND  TUMILKOONTAWOO 


1 13 


Glooskap  hastened  home,  and  got  out  his  canoe. 
There  was  no  wind  now,  and  the  sea  was  like  a pond. 
Glooskap  could  spear  eels,  or  fish,  as  he  liked.  He 
brought  in  meat  and  fish 
daily,  enough  for  his  family 
and  the  eagle. 

But  with  no  breeze  to  stir 
the  sea,  the  water  grew  stag- 
nant. Fishes  sickened  and 
died  ; and  a foul  scum  arose 
and  overspread  the  sea. 

Glooskap  went  to  the  eagle  and  unbound  his 
wing. 

“Grandfather,”  he  said,  “you  may  move  your 
wing;  but  not  hard,  lest  you  hurt  it  !” 

The  eagle  gently  flapped  his  wings  and  a faint 
breeze  swept  over  the  water.  It  blew  the  scum 
from  the  surface  of  the  sea. 

Evening  came,  and  the  Bear  Woman  fetched 
Glooskap  a bowl  of  steaming  fish  to  eat.  As  he 
took  it  she  said,  “Grandson,  did  you  not  plan  to 
fall  and  break  the  eagle’s  wing  ?” 


IND.  HERO  TALES  — 8 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


114 

Glooskap  sat  eating  his  fish.  He  said  nothing, 
but  his  eyes  were  smiling. 

The  Bear  Woman  laughed.  “We  will  call  the 
eagle  Tumilkoontawoo,  or  Broken  Wing  !”  she 
said. 

And  now  when  a breeze  blows  off  the  sea,  the 
Indians  say,  “Tumilkoontawoo  fans  his  wings.” 

1 


FOURTEENTH  TALE 
GLOOSKAP  AND  ATOSIS  1 

Atosis  the  snake  was  evil.  He  had  been  a man  ; 
but  he  hated  Glooskap  and  became  a serpent  that 
he  might  make  war  upon  him. 

Many  times  Atosis  tried  to  slay  him  ; but  Gloos- 
kap was  never  one  to  be  caught  napping. 

Glooskap’s  brother,  the  little  marten,  had  a flute.2 
When  he  played  upon  it,  the  birds  and  beasts  came 
up  to  hear  its  sweet  music.  Abistanooch  called 
them  his  pets. 

One  day  when  Glooskap  was  gone,  the  little 
1 At-6-sis  2 See  Note  34. 

ns 


n6 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


marten  took  his  flute  into  the  forest.  On  the  way, 
he  stumbled,  and  the  flute  fell  from  his  hands.  He 
picked  it  up,  put  it  to  his  lips,  and  blew.  It  gave 
no  sound. 

“My  flute  is  broken!”  cried  the  little  marten. 
Again  he  blew.  * It  was  no  use  ! The  flute  was 
silent.  The  little  marten  wandered  on, 
weeping. 

Evening  came,  and  he  lost  his  way. 
All  that  night  he  wandered,  and  the 
next,  cold  and  hungry  and  weeping. 
It  was  the  month  for  making  maple 
sugar.1  There  was  snow  on  the 
ground. 

The  third  night  out,  the  little  marten 
came  to  a hollow  in  the  forest.  Below  in  the  trees, 
he  saw  a light.  He  made  his  way  down  and  came 
to  a wigwam.  A fire  glowed  within. 

Timidly  the  marten  entered.  The  firelight 
blinded  him  for  a moment.  When  he  could  see, 
he  was  ready  to  die  of  fright. 

1 See  Note  35. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  ATOSIS 


ii  7 


A bark  kettle  full  of  boiling  sap  hung  over  the 
fire.1  On  the  other  side,  watching  the  kettle,  lay 
a great  snake.  It  was  Atosis,  Glooskap’s  enemy. 

“ Kwai !”  hissed  the  snake,  “Welcome!”  And 
he  moved,  rust- 
ling his  scales. 

The  little 
marten  sat 
down  by  the 
door,  in  the 
place  where 
wood  is  piled. 

His  heart  went 
pit-a-pat!  He  was  frightened. 

“What  do  you  want  ?”  hissed  the  snake. 

“To  be  warmed.  I am  cold  and  hungry  !”  said 
the  little  marten.  Tears  were  in  his  eyes. 

“I  too  am  hungry!”  hissed  the  snake.  “I  have 
not  eaten  for  a month  ; and  you  are  fat  !” 

And  the  snake  moved  again,  spitting  out  his 
tongue. 


1 See  Note  36. 


1 1 8 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


The  little  marten  shook  with  fright.  “Do  not 
kill  me!”  he  begged;  “I  am  Glooskap’s  brother.” 

The  snake  laughed  aloud. 

“I  know  you  are  Glooskap’s  brother,”  he  hissed. 
“That  is  why  I am  going  to  eat  you.  I shall  spit 
you  on  a stick,  to  roast  over  my  fire  !” 

The  little  marten  put  his  hands  over  his  eyes 
and  began  to  sob. 

“Go,  get  the  stick  !”  mocked  the  snake.  “Get 
a straight  one;  it  will  not  tear  you  !” 

The  little  marten  dared  not  say  no.  He  arose 
and  went  out  sobbing. 

On  the  very  evening  the  marten  lost  his  way  in 
the  forest,  Glooskap  came  back  home.  He  found 
the  old  Bear  Woman  in  the  wigwam  weeping. 

“What  has  happened,  grandmother  ?”  he  asked. 

“Your  brother,  Abistanooch,  has  not  come  home,” 
she  answered.  “I  fear  he  is  lost  !”  and  she  wept 
anew. 

“Do  not  weep,”  cried  Glooskap,  “I  will  find 
him  !” 

Losing  not  a moment,  he  put  parched  corn  in  a 


GLOOSKAP  AND  ATOSIS 


1 19 

pouch  1 to  eat,  caught  up  his  hatchet,  and  hastened 
out.  He  came  upon  the  little  marten’s  tracks  the  next 
morning.  The  trail  led  into  the  forest.  Swiftly, 
Glooskap  followed. 

The  third  night,  he  heard  a voice  in  a hollow, 
singing.  It  was  Abista- 
nooch,  calling  his  brother. 

Glooskap  hastened  down, 
and  soon  saw  the  light 
from  the  snake’s  wigwam. 

Clearer  rose  the  little  mar- 
ten’s voice,  singing  against 
the  snake  kind.  He  was 
hunting  a stick  for  a spit. 

Glooskap  heard,  and  knew  all  that  had  happened  : 
how  Atosis,  for  hate  of  him,  had  caused  the  flute 
to  fall ; how  he  had  lured  Abistanooch  to  his  wig- 
wam, and  now  sent  him  for  a stick  to  spit  him  on. 

Glooskap  began  to  sing  softly : 

“Atosis  bids  you  get  a straight  stick; 

Get  a crooked  one,  little  brother  !’’ 

1 See  Note  37. 


120 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Abistanoocb  heard.  Gladly  he  found  a crooked 
stick  and  ran  back  to  the  snake’s  wigwam,  Gloos- 
kap  drew  his  hatchet  and  hid  behind  a fallen  trunk. 
Morn  was  breaking : a crow  cawed  overhead. 

The  snake  raised  his  head  as  Abistanooch  en- 
tered. “Did  you  get  a straight  stick  ?”  he  hissed, 
“1  got  a crooked  one,”  the  little  marten  an- 
swered. “ J will  straighten  it  in  the  fire  1” 


He  made  a heap  of  coals  in  the  fireplace  and  into 
it  thrust  one  end  of  the  stick. 

The  snake  crept  near  to  watch.  He  had  never 
seen  a stick  straightened  in  the  fire. 

When  the  end  that  he  held  in  his  hand  was  steam- 


GLOOSKAP  AND  ATOSIS 


1 2 1 


ing,  Abistanooch  dragged  the  stick  out  of  the  fire 
Atosis  crept  nearer,  to  see. 

Suddenly,  Abistanooch  raised  the  stick  and 
struck  the  snake  over  the  eyes. 

The  great  snake  writhed  and  twisted  with  pain. 
Sparks  had  fallen  into  his  eyes. 

“Brother,  brother!”  cried  the  marten.  He 
dashed  out  of  the  wigwam  and  ran  straight  for  the 
trunk  where  Glooskap  was  hiding. 

The  snake  followed,  and  raised  his  head  to  glide 
over  the  trunk. 

Glooskap  leaped  up ; and  with  a blow  of  his 
hatchet,  slew  him. 


FIFTEENTH  TALE 
GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  FROG  CHIEF 

Up  in  the  mountains,  there  dwelt  a village  of 
Indians.  Their  town  was  only  a dozen  lodges,  but 
the  villagers  thought  it  the  finest  in  all  the  world. 

A brook  of  clearest,  cool  water  flowed  by  the 
town.  Very  proud  were  the  Indians  of  their  brook  ! 
They  never  tired  drinking  from  it. 

Indeed,  it  was  all  they  had  to  drink.  There  was 
not  a spring,  not  even  a rain  puddle,  on  the  moun- 
tain side. 

So  the  villagers  drank  for  many  years ; but  a 
summer  came  when  their  brook  ran  low.  The 


122 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  FROG  CHIEF  123 

maidens  went  each  morning  to  the  watering  place,1 
to  come  back  with  kettles  not  half  filled . 

“The  brook  is  failing  ! ” they  said. 

“It  will  rise  again,”  said  the  old  women. 

But  the  brook  did  not  rise.  Lower  it  sank,  until 
the  maidens  came  back  one  morning  with  empty 
kettles  ; the  bed  of  the  brook  was  dry. 

The  chief  called  the  older  men  to  a council. 

“What  shall  we  do  ?”  he  asked. 

A pipe  was  passed.  An  old  man  arose. 

“We  have  heard,” 
he  said,  “that  farther 
up  in  the  mountains 
is  another  village  of 
Indians.  It  is  they 
who  stop  our  brook  ! 
Let  a runner  go  and 
see  if  it  is  not  so  !” 
He  sat  down,  and 
the  others  cried,  “Ho,  ho!”  The  speech  pleased 
them. 


1 See  Note  38. 


124 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


The  chief  called  a fleet  runner  and  said  to  him : 
“Go  to  the  strange  villagers.  Ask  them  why  they 
stop  our  brook  ! ” 

The  runner  set  off,  and  the  third  day  came  to  the 
strange  village.  There  he  saw  what  kept  back  the 
water.  A dam  was  raised  across  the  bed  of  the 
brook,  backing  the  water  into  a wide  pond. 

Two  men  came  out  of  a wigwam.  They  spoke 
to  the  runner,  but  did  not  ask  him  into  their  lodge. 


“Why  have  you  built  the  d~~  J 
the  runner  asked  them. 


“Our  chief  did  it ; ask  him  ! 
the  men  answered.  They 
told  the  runner  that  their  ^fj|| 
chief  lived  in  the  pond.  // 


The  runner  found  the  chief 


lying  in  the  mud,  sunning  m 
himself.  He  was  big,  fat, 

ugly.  He  had  a wide  mouth,  and  his  yellow  eyes 
stuck  out  like  warts.  His  body  was  green. 

“Ump  !”  he  croaked  like  a great  frog.  “What 
do  you  want?” 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  FROG  CHIEF 


125 


“I  want  water,”  said  the  runner.  “You  have 
dammed  our  brook,  and  our  villagers  have  no  water 
to  drink !” 

The  chief  laughed  ; and  swelling  out  his  throat, 
he  bellowed  : 

“ Do  as  you  please  ! 

What  do  I care, 

If  you  want  water  ? 

“Go  somewhere  else  ! 

Go  somewhere  else  !” 

“We  must  have  water,”  cried  the  runner.  “Our 
people  have  nothing  to  drink  !” 

The  chief  laughed  again.  Lazily  he  sprang  to  the 
middle  of  the  dam  and  made  a hole  in  it  with  the 
point  of  an  arrow.  A little  water  flowed  out. 

The  chief  sprang  back  to  his  place  in  the  mud 
and  bellowed  : 

“Up  and  begone, 

Up  and  begone, 

Up  and  begone  !” 


The  runner  went  away,  sorrowful. 


126 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


When  he  got  home,  his  story  made  much  stir 
among  the  villagers.  For  a few  days,  there  was  a 

little  water  in  the 
brook,  but  it  soon 
dried  up  and  they 
were  thirsty  again. 

The  chief  called 
another  council. 

“Unless  we  get 
water,”  he  said, 
“we  shall  die  of 
thirst.  Let  us 
choose  our  bravest  warrior  and  send  him  to  the 
strange  village.  There  let  him  break  the  dam,  or 
slay  the  chief  and  die  fighting  !” 

The  speech  pleased  the  villagers.  Each  wanted 
to  be  the  one  to  go. 

Glooskap  knew  all  that  was  going  on  in  the  world. 
It  pleased  him,  who  loved  brave  men,  to  see  the 
villagers  bent  on  breaking  the  dam.  “I  will  help 
them  !”  he  said. 

He  rose  and  dressed  for  war.  The  villagers  were 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  FROG  CHIEF 


127 

arming  one  of  their  own  men  to  go,  when  Glooskap 
strode  into  the  council. 

Very  terrible  he  looked.  He  wore  a bonnet  of 
eagles’  feathers,  and  carried  a lance  in  his  hand. 
His  cheeks  were  painted  red,  and  green  rings  were 
around  his  eyes.  Clam  shells  hung  from  his  ears. 
Two  eagle  wings  flapped  from  the  back  of  his 
neck. 

The  Indians  looked  at  him  with  awe.  The  young 
women  thought  him 
very  handsome. 

“What  is  this  you 
do  ?”  Glooskap  asked 
them.  The  villagers 
told  him  of  their  plan. 

“Let  me  go,”  Gloos- 
kap cried  ; “ I will 

break  the  dam  !” 

He  set  off  up  the  bed  of  the  brook,  and  reached 
the  strange  village  the  third  day. 

At  the  edge  of  the  town,  he  sat  down  on  a log,  to 
rest.  No  one  came  out  to  greet  him. 


128 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


A boy  came  by.  Glooskap  called  to  him, 

“ Fetch  me  water  to  drink  !” 

“I  cannot,”  answered  the 
boy.  “Our  chief  keeps  all 
the  water  for  himself.” 

“Go  to  your  chief  and 
get  me  water  !”  cried 
Glooskap. 

He  drew  out  his  pipe  and 
smoked,  waiting.  An  hour 
had  passed,  when  the  boy 
came  back  with  a cup  of 
slimy,  muddy  water. 

Glooskap  threw  the  cup  on  the  ground.  “Take 
me  to  your  chief  !”  he  cried. 

The  boy  led  him  to  the  dam.  There  in  the  mud 
lay  the  chief,  sunning  himself.  Only  his  head  was 
out  of  water. 

He  stared  at  Glooskap  with  his  yellow  eyes. 
“ What  do  you  want  ? ” he  croaked. 

“I  want  a drink  of  good  water  !”  Glooskap 
cried,  angrily. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  FROG  CHIEF 


129 


The  chief  laughed  aloud,  and  bellowed  : 

“Ump,  ump,  away  with  you, 

Ump,  ump,  away  with  you  !” 

Glooskap  rose  in  anger ; and  shouting  his  war- 
whoop,1  ran  the  chief  through  with  his  lance. 

And  lo,  the  village  disappeared;2  and  from  the 
chief’s  body  gushed  a mighty  river  that  burst  the 
dam  and  went  roaring  down  the  brook’s  bed.  The 
chief  had  swallowed  all  the  waters  of  the  brook. 

Glooskap  rose  until  he  touched  the  clouds.  He 
reached  down,  caught  the  chief,  and  squeezed 
him  in  his  mighty  grip.  When  he  opened  his  fingers 
again,  he  held  only  a great,  ugly  bull  frog  ! Gloos- 
kap tossed  him  into  the  stream. 

1 See  Note  39.  2 See  Note  40. 


IND.  HERO  TALES 9 


SIXTEENTH  TALE 
GLOOSKAP’S  RETURN  TO  THE  VILLAGE 

Glooskap  set  off  to  return.  His  way  led  him 
down  the  bed  of  the  brook.  The  cool  waves  went 
plashing  by  him.  Glooskap  was  happy. 

The  third  day,  he  reached  the  village  of  his  friends. 

But  no  one  came  out  to  welcome  him ; and 
Glooskap  was  astonished  to  see  no  smoke  rising 
from  the  wigwams.  The  village  stood  silent, 
empty ; for  a strange  thing  had  happened. 

All  the  Indians  had  gone  down  to  the  banks  of 
the  brook,  to  wait  for  the  water  to  come.  As  they 


130 


GLOOSKAP’S  RETURN  TO  THE  VILLAGE  13 1 

sat,  dry  and  thirsty,  they  talked  as  hungry  children 
do  when  they  want  something  to  eat. 

“What  would  you  want  to  do,”  one  asked,  “if 
our  brook  had  water  once  more  ?” 

“Live  in  the  cool  bottom,”  cried  one,  “and  crawl 
about  in  the  soft  mud  !” 

“Dive  all  day  long,  from  rocks  and  logs!”  said 
another.  He  was  a young  man,  and  long-legged. 

“Live  among  the  stones  at  the  edge  of  the  brook, 
half  on  land,  half  in  water  !”  cried  a third. 

“ I,”  said  a fourth,  “ would  live  in  the  water 
always,  and  never  leave  it  ! ” 

It  chanced  that  they  spoke  in  the 
hour  that  makes  all  wishes  come 
true.  So  each  had  his  wish. 

The  first  became  a leech.  The 
second  became  a spotted  frog  with 
long  legs.  The  third  became  a 
crawfish  ; the  fourth,  a fish. 

When  the  water  from  the  dam 
came  roaring  down,  all  plunged 
in  and  swam  away. 


SEVENTEENTH  TALE 
THE  MEN  WHO  DISOBEYED  GLOOSKAP 

So  the  years  rolled  on,  but  the  world  was  now 
growing  wicked.1  Men  forgot  the  good  that  Gloos- 
kap  had  taught  them.  More  and  more  they  wanted 
to  do  their  own  will. 

Glooskap  was  grieved,  for  he  liked  not  wicked- 
ness. He  took  himself  and  his  family  to  an  island 
and  dwelt  there.  It  was  even  said  he  was  minded 
to  quit  the  world. 

He  did  quit  the  world  after  a time  ; but  before 
1 See  Note  41. 


132 


THE  MEN  WHO  DISOBEYED  GLOOSKAP  133 

he  went,  he  sent  his  messengers,  the  loons,  through- 
out the  land.  “Any  man  who  finds  Glooskap  may 
ask  of  him  one  wish  !”  they  told  the  people. 

Many  set  out ; and  to  all  that  found  him,  Gloos- 
kap said,  “You  shall  have  your  wish  ! ” 

But  Glooskap  took  it  ill  that  any  should  not  do 
as  he  bade  them.  Some  disobeyed ; and  these 
found  that  his  gifts  brought 
them  no  good  luck. 

Three  men  set  out  to  find 
Glooskap.  They  went  seven 
years  and  had  nigh  lost 
heart,  when  they  heard  dogs 
barking. 

“Glooskap  is  there  ! We 
shall  soon  find  him,”  the  men 
said.  But  it  was  three  months  before  they  saw 
Glooskap’s  island.  They  passed  over  in  a canoe. 

Glooskap  welcomed  them.  He  feasted  them 
many  days,  and  they  were  getting  ready  to  return 
home,  when  he  asked  them,  “What  do  you  want  !” 

The  eldest  was  a simple,  honest  man.  “I  want 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


134 

to  be  a good  hunter,”  he  said.  “Men  think  meanly 
of  me,  because  I kill  so  few  deer  !” 

Glooskap  smiled.  He  liked  men  who  thought 
not  too  much  of  themselves. 

He  gave  the  man  a magic  flute  of  wood.  “Blow 
on  this  flute,”  he  told  him.  “Deer  and  moose  will 
come  to  you  to  be  shot  !” 

The  man  thanked  him  and  went  away.  He 
wondered  to  find  himself,  at  the  end  of  seven  days, 
home  in  his  village.  He  had  been  seven  years  on 
his  way  to  Glooskap. 

The  second  man  was  foolish.  “I 
wish,”  he  said,  “to  dance  with  the 
maidens  whenever  I will  !” 

Glooskap  looked  at  him  queerly. 
“A  man  should  ask  better  than  to 
be  ever  dancing  !”  he  said. 

“I  care  not  !”  the  man  answered. 

Glooskap  fetched  out  a bag  with  its  mouth  tied, 
and  gave  it  to  him.  “Take  this,”  he  said.  “Open 
it  when  you  get  home  ; but  do  not  look  into  it  on 
the  way  !” 


THE  MEN  WHO  DISOBEYED  GLOOSKAP  135 

The  third  asked  to  be  taught  a strange,  weird 
sound  that  makes  all  who  hear  it  laugh  and  feel 
merry.  In  olden  days,  this  sound  was  heard  at 
every  merrymaking.  Now,  only  a few  aged  men 
can  make  it. 

Glooskap  bade  Abistanooch  fetch  him  a root. 
This  he  gave  the  man.  “When  you  come  in  your 
wigwam,”  he  said,  “eat  this  root.  Beware  you 
do  not  eat  it  before  !” 


The  two  men  scarce 
stopped 
Glooskap. 

off,  going  different 
ways. 


He  with  the  bag  was 
hardly  out  of  sight, 


when  he  burned  to  know  what  was  in  it.1  “ It  can 
do  no  harm  to  look  ! ” he  thought. 

He  untied  the  string,  and  whut!  — out  flew  a 
winsome  maiden  ! Her  feet  touched  the  ground, 
and  she  began  to  dance. 


1 See  Note  42. 


136  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

The  man  could  not  believe  his  eyes.  He  winked 
hard.  “I  must  be  asleep  !”  he  thought.  But  whut! 
— out  flew  another  maiden,  and  another,  and  an- 
other ! In  flocks  they  came,  crying  wildly. 

The  man  longed  to  join  in  the  dance.  He  held 
out  his  hands  to  the  maidens,  slipped,  fell  ! Over 
him  they  danced,  back,  and  over  him  again. 
“Help  !”  he  cried,  “help  !”  They  gave  no  heed. 

Hunters  found  him  lying  where  he  fell.  No  one 
knew  what  became  of  the  maidens. 

He  of  the  weird  sound  fared  no  better.  He  was 
but  a day’s  journey  from  his  village,  when  he  sat 
on  a log  to  rest.  He  thought  of  the  root,  took 
it  out,  smelled  it.  The  man  longed  to  eat  it. 

“Glooskap  cannot  know  !”  he  thought,  and  he 
ate  the  root. 

At  once  he  could  make  the  sound.  He  laughed 
as  it  came  from  his  lips  ; and  he  went  gayly  on. 

He  was  nearly  home  when  a deer  stepped  into 
his  path.  The  man  was  raising  his  bow  to  shoot 
when  the  sound  burst  from  him,  — he  could  not  stop 
it  ! The  deer  heard  and  leaped  away. 


THE  MEN  WHO  DISOBEYED  GLOOSKAP  137 

“What  ails  me  ?”  the  man  cried.  Even  as  he 
spoke,  the  sound  burst  from  him  again. 

It  was  so  when  he  came  to  his  village. 

At  first,  all  laughed  at  the  sound;  but  the  man 
could  do  nothing  that  it  did  not  burst  from  him. 
He  made  it  when  he  ate,  when  he  slept  ! The  vil- 
lagers shunned  him  at  last,  weary  with  laughing. 

With  bitter  heart,  he  wandered  into  the  forest. 
“I  care  not  if  I die  !’’  he  cried. 

Evening  fell ; darkness  was  coming  on. 

With  a cry  weird  as  the  sound,1  Pamola2  the  night- 
hawk  swooped  from  the  sky  and  bore  the  man  off 
into  the  night  ! 

1 See  Note  43.  2 Pa-mo-la 


EIGHTEENTH  TALE 

KEEKWAJOO 1 AND  KAKTOOGWASEES2 
I.  Keekwajoo  is  made  a Megasoowesoo  3 

Keekwajoo  and  Kaktoogwasees  were  young  men 
who  had  each  a wish.  Keekwajoo  was  the  elder  ; 
he  longed  to  be  a megasoowesoo,  or  enchanter. 
Kaktoogwasees  wanted  the  daughter  of  a certain 
chief  for  his  wife.  This  chief  was  a magician. 

Neither  of  the  men  knew  how  to  get  the  thing 
he  longed  for. 

“Let  us  seek  Glooskap  !”  said  Keekwajoo.  They 

1 Keek-wa-joo  2 Kak-toog-wa-sees  3 me-ga-soo-we-soo 


138 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES  139 

journeyed  long  and  came  to  Glooskap’s  wigwam 
on  an  island. 

They  entered  as  Indians  do  without  knocking,1 
and  found  the  Bear  Woman  and  Abistanooch 
within.  The  old  grandmother  was  scouring  a pot 
with  rushes.2  The  marten  was  cleaning  his  pipe. 
He  had  his  robe  drawn  about  his  knees  as  he  sat.3 

The  Bear  Woman  spoke  kindly  to  the  strangers. 
“Sit  here,”  she  said;  and  she  made  a place  for 
them  behind  the  fire. 

Glooskap  came  in  later.  “ Kwai!  — welcome  !” 
he  cried  when  he  saw  the  strangers. 

Then  to  his  grandmother:  “These  men  have 
come  far.  Put  on  the 
pot  and  give  them  to 
eat  !” 

The  Bear  Woman 
stirred  the  fire  and 
dropped  a bit  of  meat, 
hardly  a mouthful,  into 
the  pot.  When  it  boiled, 

1 See  Note  44.  2 See  Note  45 


3 See  Note  46. 


140  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

she  took  the  meat  into  a wooden  dish  and  handed 
it  to  Keekwajoo. 

“Eat  !”  she  said. 

“We  are  mocked  !”  thought  Keekwajoo,  smiling; 
but  he  took  the  dish.  He  cut  a piece  off  the  meat 
and  ate  it.  When  he  looked  again  in  the  dish,  he 
was  astonished  to  see  the  meat  had  grown  to  its 
first  size. 

“Wonderful  !”  he  thought. 

He  and  Kaktoogwasees  fell  to,  and  ate  heartily. 
When  they  were  done,  there  was  meat  in  the  dish 
as  at  the  first. 

Evening  came.  Glooskap  asked  the  men  what 
they  wanted. 

“To  be  a megasoowesoo,”  Keekwajoo  answered. 
Kaktoogwasees  said,  “A  chief  has  a daughter 
that  I want  for  my  wife.  But  the  chief  puts  such 
tasks  to  those  that  seek  her,  that  they  die  every 

I 99 

one  ! 

Glooskap  answered  nothing.  When  the  men 
had  eaten  again,  and  smoked,  he  gave  them  robes 
to  sleep  upon. 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES  14 1 


The  next  morning  before 
sunrise,  Glooskap  called  Keek- 
wajoo,  and  led  him  to  a river. 

“ Bathe  !”  he  said. 

Keekwajoo  plunged  in  and 
swam  about.  He  came  out 
with  skin  dripping. 

Glooskap  lent  him  a porcu- 
pine tail  for  a hairbrush  ; 1 and 
gave  him  a coat,  leggings,  and 
a magic  hairstring.2 

“The  hairstring  will  give  you  the  power  you 
want,”  he  told  him. 

Glooskap  also  gave  him  a wooden  flute.  “When 
you  blow  on  it,”  he  said,  “you  can  charm  all  things  !” 

He  bade  him  sing.  Keekwajoo  did  so  and  found 
his  voice  was  low  and  sweet.  He  could  not  sing 
before. 

Glooskap  led  him  back  to  the  wigwam.  “You 
are  now  a megasoowesoo,”  he  said.  “Your  friend 
wants  a wife.  Go  and  help  him  win  her  !” 

1 See  Note  47.  2 See  Note  48. 


142 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


“I  will  go,”  said  Keekwajoo,  “if  you  will  lend 
us  your  canoe  !” 

Glooskap  laughed.  “Take  the  canoe,”  he  said, 
“ but  bring  it  back  to  me.  Many  borrow  and  forget 
to  return  it  !” 

“We  will  bring  it  back,”  said  the  two  men. 

Glooskap  led  them 
to  the  beach.  A lit- 
tle way  out  in  the 
water  was  a small, 
rocky  island,  covered 
with  pines.  “Behold 
my  canoe  !”  said 
Glooskap,  smiling. 
The  young  men 
looked  at  the  island.  They  did  not  know  what 
to  think. 

“Wade  out  and  climb  into  it  !”  said  Glooskap. 

They  did  so,  and  found  themselves  in  a stone 
canoe.  Pine  paddles  lay  on  the  floor.  The  men 
chose  each  a paddle  and  sat  down,  Keekwajoo  in 
the  bow,  Kaktoogwasees  in  the  stern. 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES 


143 


“Go  !”  called  Glooskap. 

The  men  dipped  their  paddles,  and  their  canoe 
glided  away  towards  the  sea. 

Weeks  went  by  before  the  men  reached  the  island 
where  dwelt  the  chief.  They  landed,  and  Keek- 
wajoo  hid  the  canoe  under  a bush.  They  soon 
found  the  chief’s  village. 

A man  led  them  to  the  chief’s  lodge,  a tall  wig- 
wam in  the  center  of  the  town.  They  entered  and 
stood. 

The  chief  spoke  kindly  to  them.  “Sit  here  !” 
he  said,  and  he  spread  a mat  for  them. 

In  the  evening  he  made  them  a feast.1  After- 
wards, when  they  were  alone,  he  asked,  “What  seek 
you  r 

Keekwajoo  answered  for  his  friend.  “ Kaktoog- 
wasees  tires  of  dwelling  alone  ! He  seeks  a wife.” 

The  chief  sat  thinking. 

1 See  Note  49. 


144 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


“My  daughter  is  fair,”  he  said  at  last.  “Let 
your  friend  fetch  me  the  chepichkam’s  1 head  2 for  a 
gift  !”  This  chepichkam  was  a great,  horned 
serpent. 

“May  I help?”  Keekwajoo  asked. 

“Yes,”  said  the  chief;  for  he  thought,  “The 
chepichkam  will  slay  them  both  !” 

The  men  thanked  the  chief,  and  went  to  another 
wigwam  to  sleep. 

At  midnight,  Keekwajoo  arose  and  stole  from 
the  lodge.  He  made  his  way  far  into  the  forest 
until  he  came  to  a pit.  It  was  the  chepichkam’s 
den.  The  moon  had  risen.  The  den  looked  black 
in  the  moonlight. 

Keekwajoo  rolled  a log  over  the  pit,  drew  his 
hatchet,  and  began  to  dance  around  the  pit’s  mouth. 
Fast,  faster,  he  danced. 

After  a while,  an  ugly  head  appeared  and  the  che- 
pichkam crept  forth.  It  rested  its  head  a moment 
on  the  log.  Keekwajoo  sprang  forward,  and  with 
a blow,  cut  off  the  serpent’s  head. 

1 che-pich-kam  2 See  Note  50. 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES  145 

He  lifted  the  head  by  its  horns  and  bore  it  to  the 
wigwam.  In  the  morning,  Kaktoogwasees  took 
it  to  the  chiefs  lodge. 

The  chief  was  aston- 
ished. “I  fear  I shall 
lose  my  daughter,”  he 
thought. 

But  Kaktoogwasees 
was  to  have  other 
tasks. 

The  chief  invited  him 
and  Keekwajoo  to  a feast.  After 
they  had  eaten,  he  led  them  to  the  door  and 
pointed  to  a mountain.  “Coast  down  yonder  hill  !” 
he  said. 

The  top  of  the  mountain  was  ragged,  and  white 
with  ice.  Its  sides  bristled  with  pines. 

The  chiefs  son  brought  out  two  toboggans,1  as 
for  a race  ; that  for  the  strangers  was  to  go  first, 
and  Keekwajoo  was  to  steer. 

Two  strong  men,  boooins,  got  into  the  other  to- 
1 See  Note  51. 


IND.  HERO  TALES IO 


146  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

boggan.  The  chief  hoped  Kaktoogwasees  would 
be  spilled  out  on  the  snow,  and  the  boooins,  com- 
ing after  him,  would  run  him  down. 

The  chief  gave  the  word,  and  the  two  toboggans 
shot  down  the  mountain  side. 

Halfway  down,  Keekwajoo’s  to- 
boggan lurched,  pitching  Kak- 
toogwasees headlong.  The 


two  boooins  laughed, 
Ho,  ho  !”  They 
did  not  know  all  this 
had  been  planned. 

Keekwajoo  turned  his  toboggan  a 
little  out  of  the  path,1  caught  his  friend,  and  pulled 
him  aboard.  This  let  the  boooins’  toboggan  get 

1 See  Note  52. 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES  147 

ahead.  Another  instant,  Keekwajoo  was  after 
them  ! 

In  the  trees  at  the  bottom  of  the  mountain,  the 
boooins’  toboggan  stopped.  Keekwajoo’s  toboggan, 
flying  over  the  boooins’  heads,  went  on  and  struck 
the  chief’s  wigwam,  ripping  it  from  end  to  end. 
It  stopped  in  the  fireplace. 

The  chief  was  angered,  but  could  do  nothing. 
“I  fear  I shall  lose  my  daughter  !”  he  thought. 

Spring  came,  and  the  young  men  were  running 
races.  The  chief  called  Kaktoogwasees  to  him. 

“There  is  a young  man,”  he  told  him,  “a  swift 
runner,  who  has  never  been  beaten  in  a race.  Go 
and  run  with  him  !” 

Kaktoogwasees  went  to  his  friend.  “What  shall 
I do?”  he  asked.  “I  cannot  run!” 

“Take  this  flute,”  said  Keekwajoo.  “It  will 
make  you  run  !”  He  gave  him  Glooskap’s  flute, 
Keekwajoo  put  it  in  his  medicine  bag.1 

The  chief  set  an  hour  for  the  start.  All  the 
villagers  came  to  look  on. 

1 See  Note  53. 


148 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


The  runners  took  their  stand.  They  wore  light 
moccasins  on  their  feet.  Their  thighs  and  shoulders 
were  bare. 

“What  is  your  name  ?”  Kaktoogwasees  asked. 

“Men  call  me  Weyadesk,1  or  Northern  Light,  be- 
cause I am  swift  !”  the  other  answered. 

“I,”  laughed  Kaktoogwasees,  “am  so  fleet,  men 
call  me  Wosogwodesk,2  or  Streak  o’  Lightning  !” 

The  sun  was  just  above  the  tree  tops  when  the 
chief  gave  the  word  to  go.  The  two  runners  darted 
off.  They  were  out  of  sight  in  a twinkling. 

Before  noon,  Kaktoogwasees  returned.  He  had 
gone  clear  around  the  world,  but  was  not  tired.  “I 
told  you  I was  swift,  like  lightning  !”  he  laughed. 


1 We-ya-desk 


2 Wo-sog-wo-desk 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES  149 

He  that  was  called  Northern  Light  came  in  at 
evening.  He  was  tired  and  out  of  breath, 
and  his  body  trembled  and  quivered.1 
He  had  gone  half  round  the  world,  and 
turned  back. 

The  chief  was  angered  and  troubled. 

“I  fear,”  he  thought,  “I  shall  lose  my 
daughter !” 

Kaktoogwasees  was  given  one  more 
task. 

“A  young  man  in  my  village  has  never 
been  beaten  at  swimming,”  the  chief  told 
him.  “Go  and  dive  with  him.” 

“I  will  dive  !”  said  Kaktoogwasees. 

He  still  had  Glooskap’s  flute. 

A day  was  set.  The  chief  and  all  his 
villagers  came  down  to  the  sea  shore. 

The  two  divers  stood  on  the  edge  of  a 
rock,  over  the  water. 

“What  is  your  name  ?”  asked  Kaktoogwasees. 

“I  am  called  Ukchigumoech,2  or  Sea  Duck,  for  I 
1 See  Note  54-  2 Uk-chi-gum-o-ech 


i $o  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

dive  far  !”  the  other  said,  boasting.  “Who  are 
you  r 

“Men  call  me  Kwemoo,  or  Loon1!”  laughed 
Kaktoogwasees. 

At  a word,  the  two  men  dived  headlong.  Breath- 
less, the  villagers  waited. 

The  Sea  Duck,  after  a 
time,  came  up  for  breath. 

Kaktoogwasees  was  not 
to  be  seen. 

An  hour  passed,  and  another.  Kaktoogwasees 
did  not  appear. 

“He  is  drowned  !”  thought  the  villagers.  Many 
went  back  to  their  homes. 

Another  hour  had 
passed,  when  Kaktoog- 
wasees came  up,  smiling. 
“I  told  you  I was  like  a 
loon  !”  he  laughed. 

The  chief  now  made  an  end  of  the  tasks. 

“You  have  won  !”  he  cried  ; and  he  led  Kaktoog- 
1 See  Note  55. 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES  15 1 

wasees  to  his  wigwam.  Keekwajoo  was  already 
there. 

“The  wedding  feast  shall  be  to-night  !”  the  chief 
told  them. 

A crier  was  sent  through  the  village  to  invite  the 
people.  Soon  all  was  bustle  in  the  lodges.  Every- 
body was  getting  out  his  best  clothes. 

In  the  chiefs  wigwam,  the  floor  was  swept  and 
made  smooth  for  dancing.  Hemlock  boughs,  for 
the  fire,  were  piled  near  the  door.  Pots,  heaped 
with  good  things  to  eat,  stood  by  the  fireplace. 
The  guests  brought  their  own  feast  bowls. 

Again  the  chief  was  to  see  what 
power  Glooskap  could  give. 

The  guests  had  come  in,  and 
the  fun  began.  The  young 
men  sang  ; the  drummers 
drummed  ; the  dance 
flew  about,  crying  joy 
fully. 

One  old  man  had 
a log,  carved  with 


152  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

notches  ; over  these  he  rubbed  a stick,  making  sweet 
music. 

At  midnight  all  sat  down  to  feast.  The  chiefs 
wife  filled  each  one’s  bowl,  saying,  “ Eat  all  of  it  !” 

“ I cannot  eat  so  much  ! ” cried  a young  man. 
His  bowl  was  heaped  with  steaming  fats. 

The  old  men  laughed.  “ I will  help  you  eat  it,” 
said  one,  “ but  you  must  pay  me  your  knife  ! ” 

Keekwajoo,  meanwhile,  sat  by  the  door,  looking  on. 

“Lazy  Keekwajoo,”  laughed  the  others,  “why 
do  you  not  dance  ?” 

Keekwajoo  arose.  Slowly  at  first,  he  began  to 
dance  around  the  fire.  Fast,  faster,  he  flew,  now 
with  his  face  forward,  now  with  his  back.  Won- 
dering, the  others  watched  him.  They  saw  that  his 
feet  were  sinking  into  the  hard  floor. 

Around  he  flew,  sinking  deeper  at  every  turn. 
At  last,  only  his  head  was  seen  above  the  ground.1 

This  ended  the  merrymaking.  With  a deep 
trench  around  the  fireplace  there  could  be  no  more 
dancing.  All  went  home  for  the  night. 


1 See  Note  56. 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES  153 


The  next  day  Keekwajoo  and  the  newly  wed  pair 
entered  their  canoe  and  sailed  homeward.  Kak- 
toogwasees  paddled.  His  heart  was  light. 

But  their  trials  were  not  over. 

They  had  been  gone  but  a few  hours  when  black 
clouds  arose  on  the  sea.  A storm  blew  up.  The 
canoe  pitched  upon  the  waves. 

Keekwajoo  laughed.  “Your  father’s  friends  hope 
to  wreck  us  !”  he  told  the  bride.  “I  will  blow 
back  the  storm.” 

He  knelt,  facing  the  tempest,  and  filled  his  lungs. 
Puffing  out  his  cheeks,  he  blew,  wind  against  wind. 
Soon  the  clouds  rolled  back.  The  sun  came  out, 
and  the  sea  was  smooth  again. 

The  men  paddled  gayly  on.  The  wind  sang  in 

. 

their  ears,  so  fast  they  flew. 

They  had  to  pass  one  more  danger. 

At  evening,  as  they  were  paddling  along,  a dark 


154  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

mass  arose  in  their  path.  “What  is  it  ?”  Kaktoog- 
wasees  asked. 

Keekwajoo  shaded  his  eyes.  “It  is  Quabeet,  the 
great  beaver  !”  he  said.  “He  is  Glooskap’s  enemy, 

and  ours  !” 

Quabeet  lay 
with  his  head 
under  water,  his 
tail  aloft.  He 
thought  to  sink 
the  canoe  with  a 
blow. 

Keekwajoo 
steered  straight 
for  him. 

“I  am  the  hun- 
ter of  beavers  !” 
he  shouted ; and 
with  his  hatchet,  he  cut  off  Quabeet’s  great  tail. 

It  fell  into  the  water  with  a great  plash,  nigh 
overturning  the  canoe. 

The  sun  was  setting  when  Keekwajoo  and  his 


KEEKWAJOO  AND  KAKTOOGWASEES  155 

friends  landed  on  Glooskap’s  island.  Glooskap  was 
waiting  for  them  on  the  beach. 

“I  see  you  have  brought  back  my  canoe!”  he 
said,  smiling.  He  shoved  it  from  the  shore,  and 
it  became  an  island  again. 

Glooskap  led  the  way  to  his  wigwam. 

“In  all  that  you  did,  I helped,”  he  said.  “I  saw 
you  slay  the  chepichkam.  I kept  the  toboggan 
from  overturning  1” 

At  the  door,  he  paused. 

“Go,”  he  said  to  Keekwajoo,  “dwell  with  magi- 
cians. You,”  he  said  to  Kaktoogwasees,  “live  with 
your  bride.  If  you  have  need,  think  of  me  and  I 
will  come  !”  Then  he  entered  his  wigwam. 


NINETEENTH  TALE 
THE  GOING  OF  GLOOSKAP 

But  the  time  came  when  Glooskap  had  to  quit 
the  world.  Men  were  growing  more  evil ; and  they 
no  longer  obeyed  or  loved  him.  “Glooskap,”  they 
cried,  “who  is  he  ?”  And  they  mocked  at  him. 

Such  is  the  world’s  way. 

Men  and  beasts  spoke  then  one  language ; and 
the  Abnakis  even  called  the  beasts  and  birds  their 
brothers.  This  peace  lasted  while  Glooskap  was 
chief. 

When  they  no  longer  loved  Glooskap,  men  began 

156 


THE  GOING  OF  GLOOSKAP  157 

to  hate  one  another.  Then  came  wars.  Every- 
where were  fighting  and  strife. 

Glooskap  sorrowed  greatly.  “I  will  forsake 
the  land,”  he  said  at  last.  “The  people  weary  me 
with  their  quarrels.” 

He  made  ready  to  go. 

On  the  shore  of  the  sea  he  got  ready  a feast ; 
and  to  it  he  invited  the  people.  The  birds  and 
beasts  came  also,  for  in  those  days  they  were  as 
men.  Glooskap  welcomed  all. 

They  ate,  and  there  was  much  dancing  and 
drumming.  At  last  Glooskap  stood  up  to  speak. 

“I  go,”  he  said,  “into  the  west.  Some  day  I 
will  return  !” 

His  stone  canoe  lay  on  the  beach.  Glooskap 
dragged  it  to  the  water  and  stepped  in.  He  pushed 
off,  singing. 

From  the  shore,  the  people  watched  the  canoe 
rising,  falling,  on  the  waves.  Smaller  it  grew,  until 
it  was  a dot  on  the  water.  The  song  became  fainter, 
ceased.  Silence  fell  on  all. 

In  the  west  the  sun  had  set.  Twilight  was  falling. 


158  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

Sadly  the  people  turned  to  go,  when  a strange 
thing  came  to  pass. 

Men  and  beasts,  who  had  spoken  one  language, 
found  they  could  no  longer  understand  one  another. 
The  people  fled  in  fear  to  their  wigwams.  The 
beasts  slunk  to  their  dens.  Never  again  were  they 
to  meet  in  council. 

All  knew,  too  late,  that  their  friend  had  departed, 

The  snowy  owl  flew  into  the  forest  calling,  “ Koo, 
koo,  skoos,  — O,  I am  sorry  ! ” 

The  loons  go  wailing  up  and  down  the  land ; 
and  at  night  the  wolves,  Glooskap’s  servants,  howl 
mournfully  for  their  master. 

Men  and  beasts  now  slay  each  other  and  are 
never  happy.  There  will  be  no  peace  until  Gloos- 
kap  comes. 


TWENTIETH  TALE 
GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  THREE  SEEKERS 

Not  all  men  had  forgotten  Glooskap.  Some,  like 
the  owl,  loved  him  and  mourned  his  going.  Among 
these  it  was  told  that  they  who  had  need  might 
yet  find  him  ; but  the  way  to  him  was  long  and  full 
of  danger. 

Three  men  were  unhappy.  Each  had  an  evil 
in  his  life  and  knew  not  how  to  get  rid  of  it.  “Let 
us  seek  Glooskap,”  said  one,  at  last.  “He  will 
help  us  !” 

They  left  home  in  the  spring,  when  birds  were 
singing.  All  summer  they  journeyed,  over  rivers, 


1 59 


i6o 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


through  forests.  Fall  came,  and  winter,  and  spring 
again ; and  they  had  not  found  Glooskap.  They 
would  not  turn  back. 

At  midsummer  they  came  to  a path,  and  follow- 
ing it  came  out  by  a river  that  widened  into  a lake. 

The  path  went  on  around  the 
lake.  It  was  marked  in  places 
by  blazed  trees. 

“There  is  a wigwam 
ahead  !”  said  the  men.  “The 
trees  are  barked  on  the  side 
towards  us.”  1 

They  hastened  on  and 
came  to  a point  of  land  that 
went  out  into  the  lake.  They  climbed  a hill  and 
saw  white  smoke  rising  at  the  end  of  the  point. 
They  made  their  way  thither  and  found  a wigwam. 

They  entered.  A warrior  sat  at  the  right  of  the 
fireplace,  smoking  a pipe.  An  old  woman  was 
stirring  a pot  on  the  fire.  A mat  was  at  the  left  of 
the  door,  as  if  some  one  sat  there. 

1 See  Note  57. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  THREE  SEEKERS  161 


“ Kwai,  — welcome  !”  said  the  warrior.  He  made 
a place  for  the  strangers  to  sit,  and  offered  them 
his  pipe.  He  did  not  ask  who  they  were. 

As  the  men  sat  resting,  they  heard  the  plash  of  a 
paddle  and  a sound  as  of  a canoe  dragged  up  on  the 
beach.  The  door-skin  opened  and  a youth  entered. 
He  was  slim,  and  his  clothes  fitted  him  neatly. 

“Grandmother,”  he  called,  “here  is  meat  for 

t 

you  ! 

The  old  woman  tottered  to  the  door  and  fetched 
in  four  beavers. 

She  brought  her  skinning  knife  and  sat,  to  make 
the  meat  ready  for  the  pot.  But  her  eyes  were 
weak,  and  her  hands 
shook;  and  the 
knife  fell  from  her 
grasp. 

The  warrior  spoke. 

“Younger  brother, 
you  cut  up  the 
meat  !” 

The  youth  did  so ; and  the  old  woman  dropped 

IND.  HERO  TALES II 


162 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


the  pieces  into  a pot.  When  the  pot  had  boiled, 
all  supped. 

The  travelers  rested  many  days  in  the  wigwam. 
All  this  time  the  warrior  asked  them  nothing. 

Then  a thing  happened  that  showed  them  their 
hosts  were  not  common  folk. 

The  old  woman  had  seemed  to  grow  more  aged 
every  day.  Her  back  became  more  and  more  bent ; 
and  her  hands  shook  so  that  she  could  hardly  stir  the 

fire  when  it  was  low. 

The  travelers  pitied 
her.  “She  will  die,” 
they  thought. 

One  morning,  as  she 
bent  over  the  fire,  the 
warrior  said,  “Younger 
brother,  bathe  your 
grandmother’s  face 
with  water  !” 

The  youth  fetched  a bowl,  filled  it,  and  gave  it 
to  her. 

As  the  water  touched  the  old  woman’s  face,  a 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  THREE  SEEKERS  163 

change  came  over  her.  Her  cheeks  grew  plump ; 
her  hair  that  had  been  white,  became  black  and 
glossy,  and  her  bent  back  grew  straight. 

From  a bag,  she  brought  out  a garment  of 
softest  skins  and  put  it  on  ; and  now  she  stood 
before  them,  a woman,  young, 
sweet-faced,  graceful.  The 
travelers  had  never  seen  any 
one  more  lovely. 

“The  man  is  a magician,” 
they  thought ; and  it  awed 
them. 

The  warrior  now  spoke  to 
them.  “Who  are  you,  and 
what  do  you  seek  ?” 

“We  are  Abnaki  men,” 
they  answered.  “We  seek  Glooskap.” 

“I  am  he  !”  said  the  warrior.  His  face  changed 
as  he  spoke,  and  he  grew  younger.  The  others 
saw  that  he  was  indeed  Glooskap. 

The  first  of  the  travelers  told  his  wish. 

“I  am  a wicked  man,”  he  said,  “quick  to  anger; 


1 64  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 

and  I speak  ill  of  others.  I long  to  be  good,  that 
men  may  love  me  !” 

“I  am  poor,”  said  the  second  ; “I  kill  not  enough 
meat  to  give  my  children.  I want  to  be  rich,  that 
I may  care  for  them  !” 

“I,”  said  the  third,  “am  ugly,  and  my  body  is 
crooked.  I long  to  be  handsome,  that  all  may  wel- 
come me  when  I come  to  their  wigwams.” 

Glooskap  sat  and  thought.  “You  shall  have  as 
you  ask,”  he  said  at  last. 

He  arose,  and  from  his  medicine  bag  brought 
three  small  boxes.  He  gave  one 
to  each  of  the  travelers.  “Do 
not  open  these,”  he  said,  “until 
you  come  to  your  village  !” 

He  also  gave  them  suits  of 
clothing,  of  softest  skin,  white  and  beautiful.  “Put 
these  on,”  he  said. 

The  travelers  did  so,  casting  away  their  own 
worn-out  garments.  They  were  now  ready  to  depart. 

“Where  is  your  way  home  ?”  Glooskap  asked 
them. 


GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  THREE  SEEKERS  165 

“We  do  not  know,”  they  answered.  “We  were 
many  months  coming.  We  do  not  know  our  way 
back.” 

“I  will  guide  you  home,”  said  Glooskap. 

The  next  morning  he  put  on  his  belt  and  led  the 
men  forth.  Before  noon,  they  came  to  the  top  of 
a mountain.  Glooskap  pointed  to  another  moun- 
tain in  the  distance.  “That,”  he  said,  “is  near 
your  home  !” 

At  mid-afternoon,  they  came  to  the  top  of  the 
other  mountain.  The  men  wondered  to  come  to 
it  so  soon. 

Glooskap  stood  and  pointed  with  his  finger. 
“There,”  he  said,  “is  your  village  !” 

The  men  looked,  and  saw  they  were  in  their  own 
land. 

Glooskap  now  left  them.  With  happy  hearts, 
the  three  Indians  climbed  down  the  mountain  side. 
They  reached  home  before  sunset. 

None  knew  them  when  they  came  to  their  wig- 
wams,- not  even  their  kin.  “Where  did  you  get 
such  rich  clothes  ?”  their  friends  asked  them. 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


1 66 

They  told  their  story. 

When  they  had  ended,  they  opened  their  boxes. 
Within  was  a sweet-smelling  ointment,  which  they 
rubbed  over  their  flesh.  A marvelous  change  then 
came  over  them. 

He  that  was  ugly  and  had  a crooked  back,  be- 
came straight  and  handsome.  He  was  welcomed  in 
every  wigwam. 

He  that  was  poor  had  his  wish,  and  became  rich. 
Moose  and  deer  ran  to  him  to  be  shot.  Fish 
swarmed  into  his  nets.  He  did  not  forget  that  he 
had  been  poor.  He  gave  to  all  who  had  need. 

He  that  was  wicked  became  gentle  and  good.  Of 
all,  his  blessing  was  greatest. 


TWENTY-FIRST  TALE 

GLOOSKAP  AND  THE  THREE  MEN  WHO  BECAME 

PINES 

The  story  of  the  three  travelers  and  their  gifts 
made  much  noise  in  the  land.  It  was  told  in  every 
village,  at  every  camp  fire.  Old  men,  listening, 
nodded  their  heads  and  said,  “We  did  so  in  our 
youth  !”  The  young  men  burned  to  do  as  the 
travelers  had  done. 

Three  brothers,  hearing  the  story,  were  minded  to 
go  to  Glooskap.  They  were  stout  lads,  but  vain 
and  knowing  little  of  the  big  world.  “We  can 


167 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


1 68 

do  what  others  have  done  !”  they  boasted.  And 
they  set  off. 

They  journeyed  long  and  entered  a land  where  no 
birds  sang.  They  climbed  a high  mountain ; to 
go  down  was  even  harder,  for  the  mountain  over- 
hung a plain  below.  They  reached  the  ground 
more  dead  than  alive. 

A little  way  on,  they  saw  a thing  to  freeze  their 
blood  ! Two  great  serpents  lay  with  heads  on 
either  side  of  the  road.  The  serpents  hissed,  dart- 
ing out  their  tongues. 

The  brothers  dared  not  go  back.  “We  cannot 
climb  the  mountain  !”  they  thought.  Taking  heart, 
they  ran  so  swiftly  between  the  serpents’  heads, 
that  the  poisoned  tongues  did  not  touch  them. 

A worse  thing  was  before  them.  It  was  a thick, 
heavy  cloud,  like  a wall ; and  it  rose  and  fell,  rose 
and  fell,  crushing  all  beneath.  No  one  knew  when 
it  would  fall. 

“We  cannot  go  back  !”  thought  the  brothers 
again.  As  the  cloud  rose,  they  darted  under.  They 
came  out  just  as  it  fell. 


THE  THREE  MEN  WHO  BECAME  PINES  169 


They  now  found  themselves  in  Glooskap’s  land. 
They  wondered  to  see  it  so  fair. 

They  spied  Glooskap’s  wigwam  standing  between 
two  others. 

All  were  of 
bark.  Gloos- 
kap’s was  the 
tallest. 

G 1 o o s k a p 
welcomed  the 
men  and  gave 
them  a bea- 
ver’s tail  to  eat.1  They  asked  him  who  lived  in 
the  other  lodges. 

“My  two  friends,’’  he  answered. 

When  they  had  done  eating,  Glooskap  led  the 
men  out  to  see  his  friends. 

In  the  first  wigwam  was  Koolpujot,2  a strange 
man.  He  has  no  bones  and  cannot  move  himself. 
Twice  a year  Glooskap  rolls  him  over,  in  spring 
toward  the  east  ; in  autumn,  toward  the  west. 

1 See  Note  58.  2 Kool-pu-jot 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


170 

Koolpujot’s  breath  sweeps  down  forests.  His 
look  brings  frost,  hail,  rain;  sunshine. 

All  this  means  the  seasons. 

In  the  other  wigwam  dwelt  Kookwa,1  or  Earth- 

quake.  This 
mighty  man  can 
rush  along  un- 
A-  derground.  He 
makes  the  earth 
tremble  and 
shake  at  his 
power. 

The  brothers  rested  a few  days.  Glooskap  then 
asked  them,  “What  do  you  want  ?” 

The  first  was  a tall  man,  vain  of  his  looks.  His  hair 
was  combed  high  and  was  thick  with  bear’s  grease ; 
and  a turkey  feather  waved  in  his  scalp  lock. 

“I  wish,”  he  said,  “to  be  the  tallest  Indian  in  the 
world.” 

The  second  was  pleased  with  Glooskap’s  land. 
“I  should  like  to  live  here  always  !”  he  said. 

1 Kook-wa 


THE  THREE  MEN  WHO  BECAME  PINES  171 

“I  want  to  live  to  a great  age,”  said  the  third, 
“and  have  good  health  !” 

Glooskap  looked  at  them  gravely. 

“You  shall  have  as  you  wish,”  he  said,  “but 
not,  I fear,  to  your 
liking  ! ” 

He  arose  and  went  to 
the  door.  “ Kookwa,”  he 
called,  “come  !” 

Earthquake  came 
out  of  his 
yawning  mi 
ily.  He  ha 
been  asleep. 

“Take  thes 
men,”  said  Glooskap,  “and  set  their  feet  in  the 
ground  !” 

Kookwa  led  the  brothers  to  the  side  of  a knoll. 
One  by  one,  he  lifted  them  and  stood  them  in  a row, 
with  their  feet  in  the  ground.  They  became  three 
pine  trees. 

So  each  man  had  his  wish. 


172 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


He  that  would  be  tall,  lifts  his  head  above  all 
the  forest  trees.  The  turkey  feather,  now  a tuft 
of  green,  waves  in  the  wind.  All  day  long,  in  the 
pine  forests,  the  tree  may  be  heard  whispering : 

“Oh,  I am  such  a tall  man; 

Oh,  I am  such  a big  Indian  ! ” 

The  second,  who  would  dwell  in  Glooskap’s  land, 
is  there  still.  With  his  roots  in  the  ground,  he 
cannot  leave. 

The  third,  who  would  live  long,  has  his  wish.  If 
the  winds  have  not  blown  him  down,  he  stands  as 
Kookwa  left  him  ! 


TWENTY-SECOND  TALE 
THE  LAST  BATTLE 

Glooskap  still  lives.  His  wigwam  stands  on  an 
island  far  in  the  west.  It  is  a long  wigwam,  and  its 
door  opens  toward  the  sunrise,  where  the  Abnakis 
dwell. 

There  Glooskap  sits  on  a mat,  and  makes  arrows. 
He  sings  strange  songs  as  he  works. 

No  one  comes  to  his  door.  He  will  let  none 
enter. 

Already  the  wigwam  is  half  full  of  arrows.  When 
it  is  filled,  Glooskap  will  come  forth  to  make  war. 
He  has  not  forgotten  the  evil  that  men  did  him. 


173 


174 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Many  think  he  will  slay  all  mankind.  Others, 
very  old  men,  say:  “It  is  not  so  ! He  will  slay  the 
wicked.  The  good  who  die  go  to  Glooskap’s  land. 
There  live  the  Bear  Woman  and  Abistanooch  ; and 
Glooskap’s  two  dogs  are  with  him,  leaping  and 
barking  as  of  yore  !” 


GLOSSARY  OF  INDIAN  NAMES 

English  equivalents  are  in  Italics 


A-bis-tan-ooch, 

Marten;  name  of  Glooskap’s  adopted 
brother. 

Ab-na-ki, 

East  Folk ; name  given  by  other  Algonkins 
to  the  tribes  of  New  England  and  Nova 

Scotia. 

At-o-sls, 

Snake. 

bdoch-ka-jdb, 

A bark  basket. 

bdb-6-In, 

A cannibal  sorcerer. 

Boot-up, 

Whale. 

che-pTch-kam, 

A fabulous  horned  serpent. 

Globs-kap, 

Deceiver;  the  Abnaki  creator  and  demi-god. 

Kak-tobg-wa-sees, 

Little  Thunder ; name  of  an  Indian. 

Keek-wa-job, 

Badger ; name  of  an  Indian. 

Kit-poos-a-gun-o, 

The  name  of  a giant,  Glooskap’s  friend. 

kdo,  kob,  skoos, 

Oh,  I am  sorry ; an  exclamation. 

Kook-wa, 

Earthquake. 

kook-wess, 

A cannibal  giant. 

Kobl-pu-jot, 

He- who-  is  - rolled  - over-  with  -hand- spikes ; 
personification  of  the  revolving  seasons. 

kuss. 

stop;  an  exclamation. 

kwal, 

welcome ; an  exclamation. 

Kwe-moo, 

Loon. 

176  INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Mal-sum, 

Meek-o, 

me-ga-s66-w£-so6, 

Wolf;  the  name  of  Glooskap’s  brother. 

Squirrel. 

An  enchanter  whose  magic  lies  in  a wooden 
flute. 

Mik-chich, 

Turtle;  the  name  of  Glooskap’s  adopted 
uncle. 

Moo-In, 

Pa-mo-la, 

Pik-took, 

Bear. 

Nighthawk. 

Bubbling  Air;  name  of  a place  on  the 
coast  of  Nova  Scotia. 

Po-gumk, 

Fisher.  The  fisher  is  an  animal  of  the 

weasel  kind. 

PSk-m-skwess, 
Pul-6-wech, . 
Qua-beet, 

Tee-am, 

The  name  of  a sorcerer. 

Partridge. 

Beaver. 

Moose. 

te-pee, 

T um-il-koon-ta-woo, 
Uk'-chi-gum-o-ech, 
uk  say, 
wel-sum, 

We-jSk, 

We-ya-dgsk, 

A lodge. 

Broken  Wing;  name  of  the  wind  eagle. 
Sea  Duck;  name  assumed  by  a diver. 

Oh,  horrible!  an  exclamation. 

A fabulous  beast. 

Tree  Partridge ; Pulowech’s  cousin. 
Northern  Light;  name  assumed  by  a 

Win-pi, 

Wo-s6g-w5-desk, 

runner. 

The  name  of  a sorcerer. 

Lightning  Flash;  name  assumed  by  Keek- 

wajoo. 


EXPLANATORY  NOTES 


1,  page  q;  “An  eagle’s  feather  stood  in  his  scalp 
lock.”  The  tail  feathers  of  the  golden  eagle  were  worn 
almost  universally  over  North  America.  These  feathers 
in  eagles  under  two  years  of  age  are  of  a pure  white, 
with  dark  brown  or  black  tips,  and  are  much  prized. 
As  the  eagle  grows  older,  the  white  parts  of  the  plumes 
become  a mottled  brown,  and  are  less  valued. 

A warrior  earned  his  right  to  wear  eagles’  plumes. 
Their  significance  varied  with  the  tribe.  Among  the 
Minitaris,  an  eagle  feather  in  the  hair  meant,  “I  have 
been  in  battle  and  struck  an  enemy.” 

Eagle  hunting  was  a highly  honored  occupation. 

2,  page  1 5;  “to  bury  fish  in  their  fields  that  the  corn 
might  grow.”  The  custom  of  burying  a fish  in  each 
hill  of  maize,  to  fertilize  it,  was  taught  our  early  Pilgrim 
fathers  by  the  New  England  Indians. 

3,  page  16;  “He  called  her  his  grandmother.”  That 
is,  his  grandmother  by  adoption.  Grandmother  and 
grandfather  are  terms  of  respect. 

4,  page  16 ; “Glooskap  called  him  his  younger  brother.” 
His  adopted  younger  brother.  The  terms  elder  and 
younger  also  indicate  rank.  The  elder  has  precedence. 
Indian  etiquette  is  well  defined. 

IND.  HERO  TALES — 12  177 


178 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


5,  page  20;  “and  he  made  a fire  by  his  brother’s 
grave.’’  An  Algonkin  custom  to  light  the  ghost  on  its 
four  days’  journey  to  the  spirit  land. 

6,  page  21 ; “He  covered  it  with  bark  sewed  in  wide 
strips.”  There  were  several  of  these  strips  stretching 
around  the  wigwam,  and  overlapping  like  shingles. 
They  were  held  in  place  by  overlying  poles,  bound  to 
the  tent  poles  beneath.  When  camp  was  moved,  only 
the  bark  strips  were  taken.  On  the  prairies,  where 
wood  was  scarce,  the  tent  poles  were  often  borne  along 
with  the  moving  camp. 

7,  page  23;  “Glooskap  had  two  wonderful  dogs.” 
Before  white  men  came,  the  Indians  had  but  one  domestic 
animal,  the  dog.  He  was  used  in  hunting,  as  a watch 
dog,  and  as  a beast  of  burden.  The  parboiled  flesh  of  a 
young  dog  is  thought  a delicacy  by  some  tribes. 

8,  page  23;  “A  wooden  platter  lay  in  the  bottom  of 
the  canoe.”  With  a piece  of  flint  for  a knife,  the  Indians 
carved  beautiful  bowls  or  platters  of  wood.  A large  knot 
was  split  from  the  trunk  of  a tree,  and  the  bowl  pain- 
fully worked  into  shape.  Such  bowls  were  used  for  feast 
bowls  and  to  toss  dice  in  gaming. 

9,  page  24.;  “It  may  be  he  did  so  to  gain  power.” 
That  is,  supernatural  power,  magic  power.  No  Indian 
started  off  to  war  without  first  seeking  power  of  the  spirits. 

10,  page  27;  “She  is  smoking  Glooskap’s  pipe.”  A 
whale,  coming  up  and  blowing  the  vapor-laden  air  from 
its  lungs,  sends  up  a fine  spray,  not  unlike  smoke;  hence 
this  curious  myth. 


EXPLANATORY  NOTES 


179 


11,  page  28;  “She  begged  Glooskap  to  fetch  her  some 
firewood.”  This  was  woman’s  work.  We  may  suspect 
that  the  witch  sought  to  humble  Glooskap. 

12,  page  29;  “warmed  Glooskap  some  broth.”  The 
light  broth  in  which  dried  meat  is  boiled  is  used  as  a hot 
drink.  It  is  merely  beef  tea. 

13,  Page  3 O'  “The  old  man  was  a boooin .”  A boooin 
is  a sorcerer  or  conjurer,  especially  an  evil  conjurer  who 
eats  human  flesh  ; our  word  powwow  is  a slightly  altered 
form  of  the  word. 

14,  page  33;  “marks  scratched  upon  it  told  Glooskap 
all  he  needed  to  know.”  The  eastern  tribes  were  skill- 
ful at  picture  writing.  Messages  in  pictographic  signs 
are  still  exchanged  by  older  Indians. 

15,  PaSe  34>  'Tut  his  clothes  were  good.”  The  sleek 
coat  of  the  marten,  as  of  all  members  of  the  weasel  family, 
will  hardly  reveal  the  starved  condition  of  its  owner. 

16,  page  38 ; “Glooskap  came  upon  a town  of  many 
lodges.”  These,  of  course,  were  the  loons’  nests. 

17,  page  pi ; “Come  and  sit  back  of  the  fire.”  The 
place  of  honor  in  a wigwam  is  back  of  the  fireplace. 

18,  page  p3 ; “Glooskap  laid  a great  belt  of  wampum 
beads  on  his  arm.”  Wampum  beads  were  cut  out  of 
shells.  To  cut  one  bead  was  a day’s  labor.  Beads  were 
of  two  colors,  white  and  blue.  They  were  used  as  a 
rude  form  of  money. 

19,  page  47 ; “They  will  ask  you  to  play  a game  of 
ball.”  Our  game  of  lacrosse  is  derived  from  a form  of 
the  Indians’  game  of  ball. 


i8o 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


20,  page  49;  “you  must  hang  in  the  smoke.”  This 
amusing  part  of  the  myth  is  perhaps  suggested  by  the 
custom  of  smoking  meat  over  the  wigwam  fire. 

21,  page  50;  “while  the  women  dried  meat.”  Meat 
for  winter  was  sliced  thin  and  dried  on  scaffolds  in  the 
open  air,  or  over  a slow  fire.  The  dried  meat  was  packed 
away  in  skin  bags. 

22,  page  52;  “and  soon  came  upon  a fat  cow  moose.” 
The  flesh  of  the  cow  is  more  esteemed,  because  more 
tender.  The  buffalo-hunting  Indians,  unless  game  was 
scarce,  hunted  only  cows. 

23,  page  54;  “All  night  they  danced  by  the  firelight.” 
Indians  will  often  dance  and  sing  an  entire  night.  Sing- 
ing and  dancing  were  marks  of  rejoicing,  especially  at 
the  death  of  an  enemy. 

24,  page  64;  “Glooskap  and  the  giant  sat,  smoking 
and  telling  tales.”  Telling  tales  was  a common  way  of 
passing  the  evening,  especially  in  late  autumn  and 
winter.  Among  some  tribes  it  was  forbidden  to  tell 
the  tribal  myths  or  to  talk  of  the  spirits  in  summer,  when 
nature  was  alive. 

25,  page  69;  “boochkajoo,  or  bark  basket.”  Baskets 
for  carrying  objects  on  the  back  were  common  in  all  the 
tribes.  A thong  from  the  basket  passed  over  the  car- 
rier’s forehead  or  shoulders. 

26,  page  7J ; “They  met  in  a long  lodge.”  Lodges, 
built  long  to  hold  a large  company,  are  still  found  among 
the  Chippewas.  In  shape  they  are  not  unlike  an  old- 
fashioned  covered  wagon,  or  prairie  schooner. 


EXPLANATORY  NOTES 


181 


27,  page  75;  “She  . . . sat  down  between  two 
witches,  the  Toad  Woman  and  the  Porcupine  Woman.” 
These  witches  were  in  human  shape. 

28,  page  83;  “strapped  in  a cradle,  like  a babe.”  An 
Indian  babe  was  kept  strapped  in  his  cradle  until  about 
a year  old.  On  the  march,  the  cradle  was  borne  on  the 
mother’s  back,  held  by  a thong  across  her  forehead  or 
shoulders.  A wooden  bow,  bent  around  in  front  of  the 
baby’s  face,  protected  him  in  case  of  a fall.  To  this 
bow,  playthings  were  tied  ; or  thongs,  to  protect  the  babe 
from  mosquitoes. 

We  suspect  Abistanooch  was  in  his  totemic,  or  animal 
shape. 

29,  page  85 ; “and  wedge.”  Wedges  for  splitting  wood 
were  commonly  used  by  the  Indians.  They  were  made 
of  wood,  of  a piece  of  deer’s  antler,  or  of  a buffalo  horn. 

For  a buffalo  horn  wedge,  the  horn  was  dipped  in 
marrow  fat  and  held  over  a fire  until  soft ; a piece  of  ash 
wood  was  then  driven  into  the  hollow  horn,  straighten- 
ing it.  With  such  rude  tools,  trees  of  considerable  size 
were  split,  and  even  made  into  planks. 

30,  page  87;  “Pulowech.”  Pulowech  is  Micmac  for 
the  partridge  or  ruffed  grouse. 

31,  page  98;  “weisum.”  A fabulous  beast,  owned 
by  boooins  and  sorcerers. 

The  struggle  between  Meeko  and  the  weisum  is  a test 
of  their  masters’  magic. 

32,  page  100 ; “Calmly  he  sat  in  the  bow,  singing.” 
Singing  a magic  song  to  call  the  spirits  to  aid  him. 


182 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


33,  page  106;  “They  handed  the  pipe  around.”  In- 
dians smoke  by  inhaling  into  the  lungs  and  expelling 
through  the  nostrils.  Each  smoker  inhales  a few  whiffs, 
and  passes  the  pipe  to  the  next  in  the  circle.  Only  the 
tips  of  the  lips  are  pressed  to  the  stem  of  the  pipe;  it 
is  never  taken  into  the  mouth. 

34,  page  113;  “the  little  marten  had  a flute.”  The 
flute  is  a rude  wooden  instrument,  pierced  with  holes,  and 
blown  from  the  end  like  a fife.  Simple  melodies  may  be 
played  upon  it. 

35,  page  1 16;  “It  was  the  month  for  making  maple 
sugar.”  Maple  sap  runs  the  latter  part  of  February  and 
the  first  of  March.  Our  art  of  making  maple  sugar  was 
learned  of  the  Abnaki  Indians. 

36,  page  117 ; “A  bark  kettle  full  of  boiling  sap  hung 
over  the  fire.”  Such  kettles  were  made  until  recently 
by  the  Chippewas.  A fire  of  wood  was  let  burn  until 
the  blaze  died  down,  when  the  kettle  was  swung  close  to 
the  coals,  but  not  touching  them. 

37,  Page  IT9i  “he  put  parched  corn  in  a pouch.” 
Travelers  often  carried  a lunch  of  parched  corn.  A 
ball  of  pounded  parched  corn  or  sunflower  meal  was 
carried  as  an  emergency  ration  by  Minitari  warriors. 

38,  page  123;  “to  the  watering  place.”  An  Indian 
village  was  always  pitched  near  a stream  or  lake.  A 
place  was  commonly  set  apart  as  a watering  place  where 
the  village  maidens  came  to  fill  their  kettles,  gossip,  and 
visit.  The  young  men,  dressed  in  their  gayest,  often  came 
down  to  help  their  sweethearts  fill  their  kettles. 


EXPLANATORY  NOTES 


183 


39,  page  129;  “and  shouting  his  warwhoop.”  There  is 
really  no  such  thing  as  a warwhoop,  as  white  people  usually 
understand  it.  Indians  when  excited  shout  or  yell,  just 
as  white  men  do.  A German  shouts  hoch,  an  Englishman 
shouts  hurrah,  and  Americans  have  their  yell  heard  on 
many  a football  field.  Indians  have  their  yell  also. 

40,  page  I2q;  “And  lo,  the  village  disappeared.” 
Leland  thinks  that  Glooskap  here  represents  the  rays  of 
the  vernal  sun  piercing  the  spirit  of  the  frozen  river. 

41,  page  132;  “the  world  was  now  growing  wicked.” 
The  Indian  had  no  clear  conception  of  sin  as  the  Chris- 
tian has;  but  he  had  a horror  of  ingratitude. 

42,  page  135;  “he  burned  to  know  what  was  in  it.” 
Indians  have  a high  regard  for  self-control.  No  vice  is 
more  severely  condemned  than  idle  curiosity. 

43,  Page  I37 > “With  a cry  weird  as  the  sound.” 
The  night  hawk  has  the  habit  of  swooping  to  earth  with 
a prolonged  booming  sound  made  by  the  vibrating  quills 
of  the  wings. 

44,  page  139;  “They  entered  as  Indians  do  without 
knocking.”  But  a polite  cough  may  be  given  just  out- 
side the  door,  by  an  entering  visitor.  The  Mandans 
and  Mimtaris  hung  hollow  buffalo  hoofs  to  the  skin  door 
of  the  lodge;  these  made  a rattling  noise  when  the  door 
opened. 

45,  Page  I39>  “The  old  grandmother  was  scouring  a 
pot  with  rushes.”  Rushes  were  widely  used  for  scouring 
and  polishing.  The  author  owns  a bow  polished  and 
smoothed  with  these  rushes,  as  with  emery  paper. 


184 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


46,  page  139;  “He  had  his  robe  drawn  about  his  knees 
as  he  sat.’  Indians  had  no  chairs.  Often  the  robe  was 
drawn  about  the  knees  and  around  the  hips,  bracing  the 
back  as  one  sat. 

47,  page  141 ; “Glooskap  lent  him  a porcupine  tail  for  a 
hairbrush.”  The  skin  of  a porcupine’s  tail  was  mounted 
on  a stick  with  the  ends  of  the  quills  clipped  or  burned  off, 
and  used  as  a hair  brush.  Such  brushes  are  still  in  use. 

48,  page  1 41 ; “and  a magic  hairstring.”  These  hair- 
strings  were  often  profusely  ornamented  with  wampum 
beads. 

49,  page  143;  “In  the  evening  he  made  them  a feast.” 
This  was  a proper  thing  to  do  when  distinguished  stran- 
gers came  to  the  village.  The  Abnakis  had  the  custom 
of  requiring  every  guest  to  eat  all  the  food  given  him ; 
if  unable  to  do  this,  the  guest  must  hire  some  one  present 
to  help  him  empty  his  bowl. 

50,  page  144;  “fetch  me  the  chepichkam’s  head.” 
The  chepichkam  was  a fabulous  horned  serpent  with 
supernatural  powers. 

51,  page  143';  “The  chief’s  son  brought  out  two  tobog- 
gans.” The  Indian  sledge,  or  toboggan,  is  made  of  two 
thin  boards  curving  upward  at  the  forward  end,  and 
bound  side  by  side  with  thongs.  It  is  drawn  by  hand  or 
with  dogs.  The  toboggan  is  especially  useful  on  ground 
that  is  irregular  and  uneven  ; and  it  glides  easily  over 
soft  snow  where  a sled  with  runners  would  sink  and 
become  clogged.  Coasting  on  a toboggan  was  a favorite 
winter  sport  with  the  Indians. 


EXPLANATORY  NOTES 


185 


52,  page  146 ; “Keekwajoo  turned  his  toboggan  a 
little  out  of  the  path.”  He  did  this  by  dragging  one  foot 
in  the  snow  on  the  side  toward  which  he  wished  to  turn. 

53,  page  147;  “Keekwajoo  put  it  in  his  medicine  bag.” 
The  medicine  bag  was  a pouch,  often  worn  about  the 
person,  and  containing  the  Indian’s  “medicine”  or 
sacred  object. 

54,  page  149;  “and  his  body  trembled  and  quivered.” 
In  this  myth,  the  two  runners  personify  lightning  and  the 
northern  light.  Indians  believe  the  world  to  be  a great 
island  ; to  go  around  the  world  would  mean  to  pass  quite 
around  the  island’s  circumference.  This  the  lightning  easily 
does,  as  may  be  seen  in  any  storm,  when  the  lightning 
flashes  about  the  whole  circuit  of  the  heavens.  The  aurora 
borealis,  or  northern  light,  is  seen  only  in  the  northern 
half  of  the  sky;  and  it  has  a curious  quivering,  trembling 
motion,  quite  unlike  the  bold,  strong  flash  of  lightning. 

55,  page  150 ; “Men  call  me  Kwemoo,  or  Loon.”  The 
loon  is  a more  powerful  diver  than  the  sea  duck. 

56,  page  152;  “only  his  head  was  seen  above  the 
ground.”  To  dance  a trench  in  the  ground  was  the 
severest  test  of  Abnaki  magic. 

57,  PaZe  160;  “The  trees  are  barked  on  the  side  towards 
us.”  When  trees  were  blazed,  it  was  on  the  side  from 
the  wigwam,  that  the  blazed  marks  might  be  seen  by  one 
coming  toward  the  wigwam. 

58,  page  i6q;  “ and  gave  them  a beaver’s  tail  to  eat.” 
Beaver’s  tail  is  a delicacy  among  the  Indians. 


SUPPLEMENT 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  INDIAN  CAMP 

Young  folks  who  want  to  grow  up  strong  and 
healthy  should  live,  like  the  Indians,  a great  deal 
out  of  doors  ; and  there  is  no  pleasanter  way  to  do 
this  than  in  an  Indian  camp.  Such  a camp  you 
should  learn  to  make  ; it  may  be  pitched  in  a field 
or  wood,  in  a park,  or  in  your  back  yard. 

The  Tent 

The  Indians  made  many  kinds  of  lodges.  The 
commonest  is  a tent  of  poles,  covered  with  skins  or 
bark.  In  the  West,  a skin-covered  tent  is  called  a 
tepee.1 

Of  late  years,  tepees  have  been  covered  with 
canvas,  for  skins  are  now  hard  to  get ; but  the 
pattern  of  the  cover  is  unchanged. 

A tepee,  ten  feet  high,  big  enough  for  four  boys, 
is  easily  made.  Study  the  pattern  designs  on  the 
next  page. 

Sew  strips  of  eight-ounce  duck  into  a rectangular 
sheet,  twenty  feet  long  by  ten  feet  wide. 

1 te-pee 
187 


1 88 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  INDIAN  CAMP  189 

With  scissors,  cut  out  a semicircular  piece,  BCD, 
in  Fig.  1 ; AB,  AC,  and  AD  should  measure  each 
ten  feet. 

Cut  out  triangular  pieces  AKJ  and  ALM ; 
JK,  AK,  AL,  and  LM  should  measure  each  one 
foot. 

Cut  the  slits  NO  and  HI,  each  six  inches  in 
length. 

The  pieces  STUF  and  WXYZ  are  for  smoke 
flaps;  ST  should  measure  five  feet;  UV,  four 
feet ; VS,  two  feet ; and  TU,  one  foot.  Like  meas- 
urements apply  to  WXYZ. 

At  S and  X,  in  the  smoke  flaps,  sew  small,  three- 
cornered  pieces  for  pockets. 

Sew  the  smoke  flaps  to  the  cover  so  that  UV  is 
fitted  to  NM,  and  ZY  to  HJ.  The  pockets  of  the 
smoke  flaps  should  lie  on  the  weather  side  of  the 
cover. 

Cut  out  the  segments  EFG  and  PQR  for  the 
door ; GE  and  PR  should  measure  two  and  one 
half  feet  each  ; and  EB  and  DR,  one  foot  each. 
The  depth  of  each  segment,  Qd  and  Fe,  should  be 
seven  inches. 

Above  and  below  the  door,  between  H and  B, 
and  N and  D,  make  a double  row  of  holes,  three 


190 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


inches  apart ; they  are  for  the  lacing  pins,  and 
should  be  worked  like  button  holes. 

The  thong,  ab,  is  drawn  through  the  triangular 
piece  A,  and  tied  or  sewed  fast. 

All  edges  of  the  cover  are  now  neatly  hemmed. 

Around  the  circular  edge  sew  loops  of  canvas  or 
stout  cord  to  receive  the  tent  pins  ; or  better,  get 
loops  and  eyes  of  some  tent  maker. 

The  cover  will  now  appear  as  in  Fig.  2. 

For  the  frame,  twelve  poles  will  be  needed.  They 
should  be  twelve  feet  long  and  two  and  a half  inches 
in  diameter  at  the  lower  end,  tapering  slightly  toward 
the  top.  The  lower  ends  should  be  somewhat 
sharpened. 

Lacing  pins  are  ten  inches  long  and  one  half  inch 
thick.  If  cut  green,  they  should  be  peeled  of  bark, 
except  an  inch  near  each  end,  Fig.  3. 

For  the  door,  bend  a small  green  rod  in  the  shape 
of  a horseshoe,  Fig.  4 ; cover  with  canvas,  drawing 
edges  over  the  rod  and  binding  down,  as  in  Fig.  5 ; 
at  a and  b,  a cord  is  fastened  to  serve  as  a hinge. 

Setting  up  the  Tent 

There  are  two  ways  of  setting  up  the  tepee  frame, 
called  the  three-pole  and  the  four-pole  ties.  The 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  INDIAN  CAMP  191 

three-pole  tie,  used  by  the  Mandans,  is  perhaps  the 
simpler.  • 

Lay  three  poles  on  the  ground  as  in  Fig.  6,  and 
bind  firmly,  two  feet  from  the  top. 

The  poles  are  set  up  in  a tripod,  Fig.  7,  for  the 
skeleton  frame.  Poles  A and  B,  in  front  and 
spread  apart,  will  inclose  the  door. 

Positions  of  the  other  seven  poles  of  the  frame 
are  shown  in  the  ground  diagram,  Fig.  8.  A,  B, 
and  C are  the  three  poles  of  the  skeleton  frame. 
Poles  D , E,  and  F,  on  the  left,  and  G,  II,  and  /,  on 
the  right,  are  raised  in  the  order  named.  The  rope 
or  lariat  L , Figs.  7 and  8,  used  for  tying  the  skele- 
ton frame,  has  been  left  hanging.  This  lariat  is 
now  drawn  out  through  the  door,  between  poles 
A and  B,  is  carried  quite  around  the  frame,  and  is 
drawn  tight  about  the  tie. 

The  pole  J in  the  rear  of  the  tent  is  the  last  to 
be  placed.  On  this  pole  the  canvas  cover  is  raised. 

Lay  the  cover  on  the  ground,  weather  side  up, 
and  fold  once  over.  Lay  down  the  pole  J , and  tie 
the  cover  to  it  by  the  cord  ab,  Fig.  9,  two  feet  from 
the  top. 

Pole  J with  the  cover  is  then  raised  in  place  be- 
tween C and  F.  Before  the  cover  is  drawn,  the 


192 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Fig.  7. 


Fig.  9. 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  INDIAN  CAMP 


193 


lariat  L is  carried  to  the  rear  of  the  tent,  around 
pole  J,  back  into  the  tent  again  between  J and  C, 
and  anchored  firmly  to  a pin.  Figure  10  shows  the 
anchored  frame.  (Pole  J is  raised,  but  the  tent 
cover  is  omitted  in  the  figure.) 

The  tent  cover  is  now  drawn  around  the  frame  and 
laced.  The  loops  at  the  lower  edge  of  the  cover  are 
secured  to  the  ground  by  tent  pins,  driven  in  aslant. 
The  door  is  hung  over  one  of  the  lacing  pins. 

Two  poles  are  yet  unused.  They  are  raised  and 
their  upper  ends  are  thrust  into  the  pockets  of  the 
smoke  flaps.  By  means  of  these  poles,  the  smoke 
flaps  may  be  propped  down  wind,  so  that  the  smoke 
may  not  be  driven  down  the  smoke  hole.  In  wet 
weather,  the  smoke  flaps  may  by  the  same  means 
be  folded  over  the  smoke  hole. 

The  tent,  set  up  and  ready,  is  shown  in  Fig.  n. 

Anchoring  the  Tent 

The  object  of  pinning  down  the  lariat  L is  to 
anchor  the  tent  against  the  wind.  The  anchoring 
pin  should  be  driven  on  the  windward  side  of  the 
fireplace. 

The  lariat  may  be  anchored  by  one  or  two  pins. 
A two-pin  anchor  is  shown  in  Fig.  12. 

IND.  HERO  TALES — 1 3 


194 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  INDIAN  CAMP 


195 


The  Fireplace 

The  fireplace  is  in  the  center  of  the  tent,  under 
the  smoke  hole.  In  summer,  the  fire  may  be  made 
outside  of  the  tent. 

An  Indian  is  rather  sparing  of  fuel.  Two  or 
three  sticks  are  laid  each  with  an  end  in  the  fire  ; 
as  the  ends  burn  away,  the  sticks  are  pushed  in. 
A small  hot  fire  of  coals  results.  When  cooking 
is  over,  the  sticks  may  be  drawn  apart  and  their 
ends  buried  in  ashes.  This  keeps  the  coals  alive 
for  the  next  meal. 

An  Indian  woman  often  keeps  a goose  or  turkey 
wing  to  fan  the  fire,  and  brush  the  hearth  clean. 

A drying  pole  may  be  hung  over  the  fire,  lashed 
at  either  end  to  a tent  pole.  On  this  may  be  dried 
clothing,  or  shoes.  The  camp  pot  may  be  swung 
from  it  by  a cord  and  a wooden  hook,  Fig.  13. 

If  cooking  is  done  out  of  doors,  a tripod  is  useful. 
Three  saplings  are  bound  together  at  the  upper 
ends,  and  a wooden  hook  swung  beneath,  as  in 
Fig.  14.  By  spreading  the  legs  of  the  tripod,  the 
pot  may  be  lowered  to  any  height. 

In  Figs.  15  and  16  are  shown  two  ways  of  making 
a spit.  Fig.  16  is  much  used  by  Indian  hunters. 


196 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Fig.  17. 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  INDIAN  CAMP  197 


Inside  of  the  Tent 

Each  member  of  an  Indian  family  has  his  place 
in  the  tent  to  rest  and  sleep  ; for  this  reason,  when 
a stranger  comes  to  an  Indian’s  tent,  he  stands  wait- 
ing within  the  door,  until  the  owner  makes  a place 
for  him  and  invites  him  to 'sit  down. 

Figure  17  is  the  floor  of  a tent  occupied  by  four 
boys.  The  floor  is  divided  into  sections,  as  an 
Indian  would  divide  it. 

In  A are  the  pots,  pans,  and  dishes,  neatly 
covered  with  a cloth  or  paper.  The  water  bucket 
should  stand  here,  also  covered. 

In  B all  unused  foods  should  be  stored,  in  a box 
if  possible. 

C is  the  bed  of  the  eldest  boy.  When  not  in  use, 
blankets  may  be  rolled  up  against  the  wall  and 
serve  for  a seat. 

D is  the  bed  of  the  second  boy ; E,  of  the  third 
boy ; F,  of  the  youngest  boy.  Beds  lie  head  to 
head,  and  foot  to  foot. 

At  G,  wood  is  piled  for  the  night,  if  the  weather  is 
stormy.  In  fair  weather,  the  wood  is  piled  outside. 

If  a guest  is  to  be  entertained,  room  should  be 
made  for  him  between  D and  E ; for  Indians  hold 


Fig.  19. 


Fig.  21. 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  INDIAN  CAMP 


199 


the  part  of  the  tepee  back  of  the  fire  to  be  the  place 
of  chief  honor. 

Archery 

No  camp  is  complete  without  archery  ; but  every 
boy  should  make  his  own  bow  and  arrows. 

A bow  may  be  made  of  seasoned  mulberry,  ash, 
sassafras,  or  hickory.  The  bow  staff  should  be 
straight,  without  knot  or  flaw.  It  should  be  four 
inches  longer  than  the  boy’s  own  height. 

Shave  the  bow  into  shape  with  a plane,  making 
the  back  flat,  the  front  round,  as  a , in  Fig.  18.  Cut 
nocks,  d,  Fig.  18,  at  the  ends  with  a round  file. 

Against  the  flat  back,  in  the  very  center  of  the 
bow,  glue  a small  pine  block,  four  inches  long,  shaped 
like  b,  Fig.  18,  and  stay  it  in  place  with  a few  wrap- 
pings of  flax.  Cover  neatly  with  a piece  of  plush, 
sewed  on  or  glued.  This  is  for  the  handle. 

Varnish,  or  rub  with  boiled  linseed  oil. 

The  completed  bow  is  shown  in  c,  Fig.  18. 

The  Bowstring 

The  bowstring  is  made  of  thirty  strands  of  shoe- 
maker’s thread.  Take  ten  threads,  wax  with  bees’ 
wax  and  twist  into  a cord,  twisting  from  you.  When 
three  such  ten-stranded  cords  are  made,  twist  them 


200 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


into  one,  twisting  toward  you.  This  will  be  your 
bowstring. 

At  one  end,  make  a fixed  loop,  or  eye,  large  enough 
to  run  easily  on  the  upper  arm  of  your  bow.  The 
other  end  of  the  string  is  tied  fast  with  a bowyer’s 
knot,  or  timber  hitch,  Fig.  19. 

The  bowstring  should  be  whipped  with  silk  along 
the  middle  where  it  is  drawn  by  the  fingers. 

Keep  your  bowstring  well  waxed  with  bees’  wax. 

Arrows 

Arrows  may  be  planed  round,  or  shaved,  from 
half  inch  strips  of  pine  or  hickory.  They  should 
be  twenty-five  or  twenty-six  inches  long  for  boys, 
twenty-eight  inches  long  for  adults ; and  three 
eighths  of  an  inch  thick.  The  shaft  must  be  straight. 

The  head  may  be  left  blunt ; or  the  shaft  may  be 
split  for  a half  inch,  with  a fine  saw  ; and  a bit  of 
hoop  iron  may  be  inserted,  and  fixed  with  glue  and 
a wrapping  of  fine  wire.  See  a and  b,  Fig.  20. 

There  should  be  three  feathers,  taken  from  the 
same  wing  of  a goose  or  turkey.  Feathers  may  be 
cut  from  the  shaft  of  the  plume  with  a knife  ; or 
the  aftershaft  with  its  attached  barbs  may  be 
stripped  off  with  the  fingers. 


HOW  TO  MAKE  AN  INDIAN  CAMP 


201 


Glue  feathers  to  the  shaft  of  the  arrow  and  trim 
evenly.  A little  silk  and  glue  may  be  used  to  bind 
the  upper  and  lower  ends  of  the  feathers  to  the 
shaft,  c,  Fig.  20. 

A nock  should  be  filed  in  the  feather  end  of  the 
shaft  to  receive  the  bowstring. 

Quiver 

A good  quiver  is  shown  in  Fig.  21.  The  back  is 
made  of  a thin  board,  the  floor  of  a half  circular 
block ; a piece  of  thick  leather  is  nailed  to  the 
edges,  with  brass  nails. 

A belt  passes  over  the  right  shoulder  and  under 
the  left  arm. 

Bracing  and  Shooting 

To  brace  the  bow,  rest  the  lower  end  against  the 
right  foot ; grasp  the  handle  of  the  bow  with  the 
right  hand,  and  push  the  eye  of  the  bowstring  into 
the  nock  with  the  left  hand,  Fig.  22. 

The  arrow  is  laid  on  the  bowstring,  and  drawn 
with  the  first  three  fingers  of  the  right  hand.  The 
shaft  is  held  between  the  first  and  second  fingers, 
Fig.  23.  Draw  until  the  root  of  your  thumb  touches 
your  right  ear,  and  loose. 

The  arrow  should  be  drawn  on  the  left  of  the  bow. 


202 


INDIAN  HERO  TALES 


Fig.  22, 


HINTS  TO  YOUNG  CAMPERS 


203 


HINTS  TO  YOUNG  CAMPERS 

Do  not  throw  away  bits  of  refuse  food  ; burn  or 
bury  them.  Bury  all  tin  cans. 

Bury  potatoes  in  sand  or  loose  earth,  to  keep  them 
fresh. 

Air  your  bed  clothing  and  blankets  every  day. 

Bows  and  arrows,  shoes,  clothing,  and  the  like 
may  be  stored  out  of  the  way  by  making  them  into 
a long  bundle,  and  lashing  them  to  one  of  the  tent 
poles,  as  shown  in  Fig.  24. 

Indians  had  no  soap.  Pots  were  scoured  out  with 
rushes.  Your  camp  kettle  and  dishes  may  be 
cleaned  in  the  same  way ; if  no  rushes  can  be  found, 
use  coarse  grass,  dipped  in  a little  wet  sand,  and 
drench  with  water. 

A camp  in  your  back  yard  is  nearly  as  good  as  one 
in  the  forest. 


/ 


